THE 

CHINESE 
LABEL 


Hi 


J.  FRANK  DAVIS 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL 


She  broke  in  sharply.     "  Do  you  mean  you  would  not  go  to 
the  police  if  you  knew  ?  "     Page  1 70. 


THE 
CHINESE  LABEL 

BY  J.  FRANK  DAVIS 


WITH   FRONTISPIECE  BY 

RALPH  P.  COLEMAN 


A.  L.  BURT  COMPANY 

Publishers  New  York 

Published  by  arrangement  with  Little,  Brown  and  Company 


Copyright,  IQ2O, 
BY  LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY. 

All  rights  reserved 
Published  March,  1920 


To 

Dr.  Fred  Houdlett  Albee 

t'  for  whose  professional  skill 
this  and  many  other  stories 
would  never  have  been 
written 


M667758 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL 


CHAPTER  I 

SLOWLY  his  livery  automobile  edged  its  way 
through  the  excited,  shouting  carnival  crowds, 
while  Julian  Napier  scanned  the  features  of  the 
revelers,  seeking  the  well-remembered  face  of 
Kalat  Pasha. 

San  Antonio's  Fiesta  San  Jacinto  was  in  full 
swing.  The  downtown  streets  and  plazas 
swarmed  from  curb  to  curb  with  merrymakers 
and  spectators,  roared  and  echoed  to  shouts  and 
laughter,  to  the  raucous,  persuading  cries  of 
street  merchants,  to  the  tooting  of  horns  and  the 
clatter  of  rattles.  With  their  thousands  of  extra 
electric  lamps  and  their  staring,  high-powered 
flood-lights,  they  were  almost  as  bright  and  much 
more  beautiful  than  in  the  sunlight.  Lights  and 
flags  and  banners ;  now  and  then,  when  there  fell 
a  lull  in  the  turmoil  of  voices,  rose  the  drone  and 
thump  of  not  distant  bands, — and  everywhere  the 
swirling  crowd,  in  tens  of  thousands. 

Three  days,  now,  Julian  Napier  had  been  in 
San  Antonio,  always  seeking  that  one  olive- 
tinted  face. 

It  was  a  face  he  had  not  seen  for  more  than 
eight  years.  Kalat  would  be  looking  older,, 


4  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

naturally,  and  probably  somewhat  disguised. 
His  jet-black  mustache,  whose  little  ends  he  used 
to  train  to  point  upward,  would  probably  have 
disappeared.  He  would  be  stouter,  likely.  He 
might  not  be  dressed  so  immaculately  as  was  his 
wont  when  Napier  last  saw  him,  in  Peking.  Eut 
Napier  did  not  doubt  he  would  know  the  man  if 
they  met. 

He  hoped  Kalat  would  not  know  him.  He 
rather  thought  he  wouldn't.  Back  there  in 
China,  Yusef  Kalat,  although  barely  thirty,  was 
already  quite  an  important  person  among  the 
lesser  diplomatic  representatives.  Although  not 
yet  a  pasha —  that  honor  came  after  his  return  to 
Turkey — it  was  common  knowledge  that  he 
stood  high  in  the  favor  of  some  of  the  most 
powerful  leaders  of  the  Young  Turk  Party,  then 
riding  triumphantly  on  the  crest  of  the  wave  at 
Constantinople,  while  Napier  was  merely — so  far 
as  Kalat  could  know — a  dillydallying  tourist. 
Not  more  than  three  men  in  all  China  knew  that 
the  young  American  was  a  representative  of  the 
Treasury  Department,  fitting  himself  by  observa 
tion  and  study  for  specialization  in  matters 
Oriental,  and  none  of  the  three  was  a  person 
prone  to  babble  secrets  to  Turks  or  any  one  else. 

"  I  doubt  very  much  if  he  knows  me,"  Napier 
had  told  his  chief,  a  week  since  at  Washington, 
when  that  personage  put  up  to  him  the  problem 
that  was  confronting  the  department  agents  at 
the  Mexican  border.  "  I  saw  him  several  times 
in  Peking  and  once  at  Shanghai,  but  we  were 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL1  5 

never  introduced  and,  even  if  we  had  been,  it  is 
hardly  likely  he  would  have  remembered  a 
youngster  as  inconspicuous  as  I  tried  to  be.  I 
wouldn't  swear  he  doesn't,  of  course ;  that  would 
be  foolish.  But  I  don't  think  so." 

"  But  you  feel  reasonably  sure  you  would 
know  him? " 

"  Positive.  He  isn't  the  sort  that  is  easily 
forgotten,  and  he  can't  have  changed  greatly  in 
eight  years.  Of  course,  I  take  it  for  granted  he 
won't  be  passing  as  a  Turk,  or  as  an  Armenian 
or  Syrian,  either.  He  will  probably  claim  to  be 
a  Latin  of  some  sort.  His  safest  stunt,  if  he 
speaks  the  language  well  enough,  would  be  to 
call  himself  a  Spaniard,  and  he  is  reputed  to  have 
a  great  gift  of  tongues.  As  a  Spaniard,  in  San 
Antonio  or  any  other  South  Texas  city,  he 
wouldn't  be  conspicuous  at  all.  You  say  you  are 
sure  he  came  across  the  border?  " 

"  Reasonably  sure.  Mexico  City  reported  he 
had  left  there,  supposed  to  be  headed  for  the 
States,  and  we  found  a  record  that  almost  cer 
tainly  applies  to  him.  He  would  not  attempt  to 
come  in  under  his  own  name  or  nationality,  natu 
rally,  but  a  man  whose  description  tallies  per 
fectly  with  his  entered  at  Eagle  Pass.  He  had 
a  Greek  passport  in  perfect  order,  viseed  at 
Madrid,  Havana  and  Mexico  City.  He  declared 
nothing  dutiable,  was  searched  and  found  to  have 
nothing  dutiable  on  him.  The  name  he  gave  " — 
the  chief  read  from  a  card  on  his  desk — "  was 
Demitri  Poulos." 


6  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

'  Which  is  exactly  as  valuable  for  identifica 
tion  purposes  as  John  Smith." 

"  Exactly.  This  Demitri  Poulos  took  a  train 
north,  probably  to  San  Antonio.  All  this,  you 
understand,  had  happened  before  our  people  in 
Mexico  City  got  wind  of  the  stones,  or  of  his  con 
nection  with  them — before  they  knew  anything 

about  him  at  all,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  Well 

He  didn't  have  the  diamonds  with  him  when  he 
came  across,  so  we  are  justified  in  believing  they 
are  to  follow  him  across,  if  they  haven't  already 
done  so.  He  wouldn't  get  any  farther  from  the 
border  than  was  necessary,  if  that  is  the  case,  and 
yet  he  couldn't  remain  inconspicuous  in  one  of 
those  little  towns  on  the  Rio  Grande.  So  we  are 
taking  it  for  granted  he  went  to  San  Antonio. 
Our  agents  there  have  been  unable  to  get  any 
track  of  him,  but  that  means  nothing.  None  of 
them  ever  saw  him,  and  we  have  no  photograph. 
So  -  Well,  it  looks  like  a  long  shot,  but  I 

don't  see  anything  to  do  but  to  go  down  there  and 
take  a  thorough  look-see.  You  are  the  only  man 
in  the  department — at  least  the  only  one  who  is  in 
America  just  now — who  knows  him." 

"And  when  I  find  him,  if  I  do,  the  job  is  just 
begun." 

The  chief  nodded.  "  When  you  find  him,  you 
may  be  on  the  track  of  the  diamonds  and  you 
may  not  be.  But  if  he  still  had  them  in  Spain, 
as  our  people  report,  and  still  had  them  in  Mexico 
City,  it  means  he  has  them  in  the  United  States — 
or  expects  to." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL1  T 

"  It  is  quite  certain,  is  it,  that  he  had  them  in 
Mexico? " 

"  One  of  our  men  got  a  tip  that  he  offered  them 
to  a  dealer,  hoping  the  man  might  be  willing  or 
able  to  make  a  trade.  Perhaps  a  price  might 
have  been  arranged,  if  Kalat  had  been  willing  to 
make  enough  of  a  sacrifice,  but  the  jeweler  had 
no  way  to  get  enough  for  the  payment  in  gold, 
and  naturally  Kalat  wasn't  taking  any  part  of 
his  payment  in  Mexican  paper." 

"  Do  I  understand  the  stones  are  Kalat's  own 
property?  I  mean,  there  is  no  charge  that  they 
are  stolen  goods." 

The  chief  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  The 
Turkish  government,  whatever  it  happens  to  be 
at  this  moment,  would  undoubtedly  claim  they 
were  stolen,  but  whether  or  not  it  could  make  the 
charge  stick  is  something  else.  That  is  an  angle 
we  are  not  much  interested  in.  So  far  as  we  are 
concerned,  Kalat  has  them  and,  for  all  we  know, 
they  are  his.  Our  interest  in  them  ceases  when 
they  have  paid  a  proper  duty,  or,  if  they  are 
smuggled  in,  when  they  have  been  seized." 

"  Describe  them  to  me  more  fully,  will  you, 
please?  Of  course  I  have  heard  of  them,  but  I 
never  saw  them.  '  The  Gorgeous  Lily'  is  the 
more  famous  of  the  two,  I  think.  Is  it  the  lar- 
ger?" 

"  No.  c  The  Ray  of  Light'  is  considerably  the 
larger;  a  fraction  over  fifty-one  carats." 

Napier  did  not  attempt  to  conceal  his  surprise. 
"  I  had  no  idea  it  was  as  heavy  as  that,"  he 


8  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

said.  '  Why,  the  Regent,  in  the  Louvre,  is  a 
little  less  than  three  times  that  size,  and  it  is  val 
ued  by  the  French  government  at  two  million  and 
a  half  dollars." 

"  But  the  Regent  is  regarded  by  experts  as 
the  world's  most  perfect  large  stone,  and  the  Ray 
of  Light  is  not  perfect,  either  in  color  or  cutting. 
There  have  been  many  stories  as  to  its  value- 
most  of  them  from  Turkish  sources  and  hence  to 
be  taken  with  reservation.  Perhaps,  if  it  were 
offered  in  the  open  market,  with  no  possibility  of 
cloud  to  the  title,  it  might  bring  a  quarter  of  a 
million  dollars.  Under  the  circumstances,  Kalat 
will  probably  feel  well  satisfied  if  he  can  get  a 
hundred  thousand — and  let  the  buyer  take  the 
chance  of  evading  the  duty." 

"  And  tKe  Gorgeous  Lily?  " 

"  That  is  a  much  better  stone.  It  is  blue- 
white,  well  cut,  and  weighs  forty -three  and  seven- 
eighths  carats.  Its  intrinsic  value  is  greater  than 
the  other.  There  is  a  rumor  in  Spain  that  Kalat 
offered  the  pair  for  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars 
gold.  He  would  probably  take  two  hundred 
thousand." 

"  Is  there  any  inside  information  as  to  how 
they  came  into  his  possession?  " 

The  chief  shook  his  head. 

"  He  just  has  them,"  he  replied  simply.  "  They 
were  always  on  the  sultan's  sash  when  he  ap 
peared  on  State  occasions,  and  now  they  are  not 
only  gone  from  the  sash,  but  gone  from  Con 
stantinople.  Presumably  they  were  Kalat's 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  9 

share  of  the  loot,  when  the  smash  came.  The 
Young  Turk  officials,  when  they  made  their  final 
clean-up,  got  away  with  over  a  hundred  and 
twenty  million  dollars'  worth  of  grand  larceny. 
Kalat  had  been  one  of  the  gang,  well  up  in  the 
confidence  of  the  three  big  fellows.  Whether 
they  divided  with  some  of  their  henchmen  and 
gave  Kalat  the  two  stones,  or  whether  it  was 
everybody  for  himself  and  Kalat  happened  to 
have  access  to  the  sultan's  jewelry  I  don't  know, 
and  I  doubt  if  anybody  else  knows  outside  the 
looters  themselves.  The  world  is  aware  that  the 
gang  made  their  get-away  with  all  they  needed — 
and  the  next  we  hear  of  the  Gorgeous  Lily  and 
the  Ray  of  Light,  Kalat  Pasha  is  trying  to  make 
a  deal  to  get  rid  of  them  in  Madrid." 

"  Then  our  people  lost  track  of  him,  you 
say." 

"  He  had  powerful  friends  among  the  pro- 
Germans  at  court.  We  suppose — from  the  pass 
port  that  this  alleged  Greek  Demitri  Poulos  had 
when  he  entered  at  Eagle  Pass — that  things  got 
unpleasant  for  Kalat  in  Spain,  that  he  and  his 
friends  framed  up  the  phony  Greek  papers,  and 
that  he  slipped  over  to  Havana  and  thence  across 
to  Vera  Cruz.  We  are  guessing  at  all  that,  how 
ever.  All  we  know  is  that  Kalat  was  in  Mexico 
City,  that  he  had  the  stones  with  him,  failed  in 
an  attempt  to  sell  them,  and  disappeared,  sup 
posed  to  be  heading  toward  the  States.  And 
that  Demitri  Poulos  came  in  at  Eagle  Pass." 

Napier  sat  for  a  moment  in  thought.    "  If  he 


10  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

left  the  stones  behind  him  to  be  sent  in  afterward, 
there  is  somebody  in  Mexico  whom  he  can  trust 
implicitly,"  he  mused.  "And  a  Turk  seldom 
trusts  anybody  implicitly.  Not  a  Mexican, 
surely,  and  especially  not  another  Turk."  He 
frowned  over  the  problem.  "  He  would  be  put 
ting  himself  at  the  mercy  of  the  other  man; 
depending  on  nothing  but  the  fellow's  word — un 
less  he  had  something  on  him  and  a  way  to  punish 
him  if  he  didn't  make  good." 

"A  man  big  enough  to  be  involved  with  him  in 
a  scheme  like  this  wouldn't  be  likely  to  fear  many 
consequences." 

"  That  is  true.  Which  gets  us  back  to  the 
matter  of  trust.  It  isn't  according  to  Oriental 

nature Wait  a  minute !  I  was  thinking  of 

Turkish  Oriental  nature.  Kalat  knows  China. 
He  knows,  once  a  high-class  Chinaman  has  given 
his  word,  palm  touching  palm,  on  the  memory  of 

his  honorable  ancestors Are  there  as  many 

Chinese  smugglers  on  the  other  side  of  the  Mex 
ican  border  as  usual,  chief?  " 

"  More  than  there  used  to  be.  Mostly  opium, 
of  course." 

"  Is  much  of  it  getting  in?  " 

The  chief  smiled  wryly.  "We  don't  know 
how  much  is  getting  in — but  it  is  too  much.  We 
know  how  much  we  are  seizing.  Not  two  weeks 
ago  we  made  one  haul  of  sixty-seven  five-tael 
cans.  A  jitney  driver  who  was  going  back  and 
forth  a  dozen  times  a  day  had  it  packed  in  the 
upholstery  of  his  car.  We  got  a  good  quantity 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  11 

last  week  in  the  false  bottom  of  what  looked  like 
an  ordinary  farm  wagon.  A  few  cans  in  an 
automobile  radiator  is  pretty  common.  And  that 
is  only  telling  what  happens  at  the  international 
crossings,  where  they  take  a  chance  with  the  cus 
toms'  officers.  What  gets  in  at  the  fords  and  in 
boats,  I  wouldn't  pretend  to  estimate.  We  catch 
a  lot  of  them,  of  course,  but  the  Rio  Grande  is  a 
long  river." 

"  It  is  a  profitable  business  at  that,  I  imagine; 
for  the  fellows  who  stay  in  Mexico  take  no  risks." 

"A  five-tael  can  is  worth  better  than  fifty  dol 
lars  now  on  this  side." 

"  If  Kalat  trusted  anybody — we  don't  know, 
of  course,  that  he  did,  or  even  positively  that  he 
is  your  Demitri  Poulos  the  Greek,  although  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  he  is — it  is  my  guess  that 
the  chances  are  the  man  he  trusted  is  Chinese.  I 
think  I'll  nose  around  among  the  yellow  people 
in  San  Antonio  a  bit,  anyway.  Are  there  many 
there  now?  " 

"A  rather  large  colony,  I  think.  Some  odd 
fact  or  other  about  its  location  came  out  in  one 
of  our  reports.  Oh,  I  have  it!  The  city  au 
thorities  abolished  the  old  Red  Light  district,  and 
a  lot  of  handsome  real  estate  went  begging  for 
awhile.  Nobody  wanted  to  live  in  that  section. 
Then  the  well-to-do  Chinese  went  in.  I  don't 
remember  anything  more  about  it,  but  the  San 
Antonio  office  can  post  you  on  all  that  after  you 
get  there." 

Napier  rose.     "  I'll  get  to-night's  train,"  he 


12  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

said.  "  If  Kalat  is  there,  I'll  try  to  locate 
him." 

"After  which,"  the  chief  smiled,  "  you  have 
located  nothing  of  any  value  whatever  to  us  un 
less  you  are  also  able  to  locate  the  Gorgeous  Lily 
and  the  Ray  of  Light." 

Lamb,  the  collector  of  customs  at  San  Antonio, 
with  whom  Napier  conferred  before  he  had  been 
in  the  city  two  hours,  was  unable  to  advise  any 
especial  course  of  action. 

"  You  say  Kalat  could  easily  pass  for  a  Span 
iard,  or  a  white  Mexican,"  he  remarked.  "  There 
are  at  least  twenty-five  thousand  Mexicans  in 
San  Antonio — perhaps  thirty — and  at  least  a 
thousand  of  them  are  white,  or  near  enough  white 
so  that  you  can't  be  sure  of  the  Indian  strain  at 
first  glance.  And  a  very  great  number,  since  the 
disorders  in  Mexico  have  located  them  here  as 
refugees,  are  people  of  fine  education  and  breed 
ing.  So  you  see  looking  for  one  individual  who 
answers  that  description,  unless  you  actually 
know  him  by  sight,  has  got  looking  for  a  needle 
in  a  haystack  in  the  list  of  simple  sports  and  pas 
times.  We  have  kept  our  ears  and  eyes  open 
for  new  Spaniards  in  town —  as  differentiated 
from  Mexicans,  who  frequently  refer  to  them 
selves  here  as  '  Spanish,'  when  they  are  of  pure 
white  or  nearly  pure  white  blood — but  we  haven't 
got  anywhere." 

"Where  do  the  best  Spanish  and  Mexican 
people  hang  out?  At  what  hotels  and  amuse 
ment  places,  I  mean." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  13 

Lamb  told  him. 

"And  their  residential  section?  " 

"  There  is  none.  There  are  purely  Mexican 
sections,  where  the  poorer  classes  live — the 
principal  one  is  over  back  of  Main  and  Military 
Plazas — but  the  better  people  live  anywhere  and 
everywhere.  Your  man  might  be  at  any  of  the 
hotels;  he  might  be  visiting  or  boarding  or  oc 
cupying  a  house  of  his  own  in  any  of  the  good 
residential  sections ;  or,  of  course,  he  might  think 
he  would  be  better  buried  in  Little  Mexico."  The 
collector  got  out  a  map  and  located  the  purely 
Mexican  quarter  on  it. 

"  You  have  a  Chinese  colony  here,  the  chief 
told  me.  A  new  one,  where  the  old  Red  Light 
district  used  to  be." 

Collector  Lamb  put  his  finger  on  a  point  on 
the  map.  "  Right  there,"  he  said.  "Across  the 
San  Pedro  Creek,  just  behind  the  big  Mexican 
quarter." 

"  Handy  to  the  center  of  town,"  Napier  com 
mented.  "  When  did  this  unusual  influx  of 
Chinamen  take  place,  and  where  did  they  come 
from? " 

"  From  Mexico,  a  good  many  of  them.  It's 
quite  unique,  how  several  hundred  of  them  came 
to  be  living  here,  because,  theoretically,  they 
aren't  supposed  to  be  in  the  United  States  at  all. 
They  date  from  our  little  Villa  adventure.  When 
Pershing  was  in  Mexico,  he  had  four  or  five  hun 
dred  Chinks  working  for  him  with  the  army  of 
occupation,  doing  one  thing  or  another,  and  when 


14  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

he  got  his  orders  to  forget  that  Villa-dead-or- 
alive  thing,  it  was  easy  to  see  the  finish  of  those 
Chinamen  if  he  left  them  there.  He  was  up 
against  both  Villistas  and  Carranzistas  at  that 
time,  you  know,  and  neither  faction  of  the  Mexi 
cans  would  be  friendly  to  anybody  who  had 
helped  the  gringos,  and  there  would  have  been  a 
fine  open  season  on  Chinese  and  their  property  if 
they  had  been  left  behind.  So  Pershing  brought 
them  across  the  border. 

"A  good  many  of  them  were  of  the  menial 
laboring  class.  They  were  taken  out  to  Fort 
Sam  Houston  and  Camp  Travis  and  given  jobs 
for  Uncle  Sam,  and  they  are  still  there,  working 
very  contentedly.  A  good  many  more  were  of  a 
little  better  grade — small  merchants  and  men  of 
limited  means — and  a  scheme  was  worked  out 
whereby  they  could  stay  here  *  in  bond ',  as  you 
might  say,  until  it  gets  safe  for  them  in  Mexico. 
There  is  a  representative  of  the  Chinese  govern 
ment  here  and  a  representative  of  our  govern 
ment  to  look  after  them,  and  they  report  to  these 
regularly  and  are  allowed  to  come  and  go  with 
almost  as  much  freedom  as  anybody  else,  so  long 
as  they  don't  attempt  to  leave  town.  Not  one  of 
them,  up  to  now,  has  broken  his  '  bond ',  or 
*  parole  ',  or  whatever  you  want  to  call  it.  When 
there  is  a  government  in  Northern  Mexico  strong 
enough  to  protect  them,  and  willing  to,  they  will 
be  sent  back." 

"And  these  compose  this  new  colony?  " 

"  Partially.     But  there  are  a  lot  of  other  new- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  15 

comers,  not  '  in  bond ',  who  say  they  came  from 
Southern  California  and  other  places  where 
Chinese  have  been  thick  for  years.  I  suppose  a 
good  many  of  them  did;  it  isn't  susceptible  of 
proof  that  any  of  them  didn't,  anyway.  If  a  few 
of  them  succeeded  in  slipping  across  the  border, 
they  don't  boast  of  it — and  their  papers  ap 
pear  to  be  all  right.  You  know  how  much 
that  '  papers  in  order '  business  means,  or 
doesn't.  If  any  Chinaman  ever  died  in  this 
country  and  his  papers  weren't  left  where 
they  could  be  used  over  again  by  some  Chink 
who  didn't  have  any  of  his  own,  I  never  heard 
of  it." 

"  Is  there  anybody  here  among  the  more  pros 
perous  Chinese  who  is  under  suspicion  of  being 
mixed  up  in  opium  smuggling?  " 

The  collector  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 
grinned.  "  Every  Chinaman  in  America  is 
under  suspicion  of  being  an  opium  smuggler,"  he 
asserted.  "  But  we  haven't  anything  on  any  of 
these  fellows  that  live  in  the  new  district.  They 
live  quietly,  keep  to  themselves  and  seem  to  mind 
their  own  business.  We  see  what  they  appear 
to  be  doing;  but  what  they  really  do  or  what  they 
really  think,  of  course,  is  beyond  me.  I  confess 
it  cheerfully  and  brazenly.  I  can  make  a  guess 
at  what  a  pelado  Mexican  will  do  or  think  under 
a  given  combination  of  circumstances,  but  the 
Oriental  mind  is  a  sealed  book.  My  experience 
in  the  customs  game  has  been  the  Mexican  border 
and  points  East." 


16  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Most  of  these  people  have  some  way  of  mak 
ing  a  living  here,  I  suppose." 

'  Yes.  In  the  restaurant  and  grocery  busi 
ness,  principally." 

"  Who  is  the  leading  citizen  of  the  colony?  " 

The  collector  considered  this  thoughtfully. 
"  I  can  tell  you  who  is  the  best  known  among 
Americans.  He  runs  a  very  decent  restaurant, 
over  on  Stonewall  Street,  right  in  the  heart  of 
town,  and  seems  to  have  plenty  of  capital.  His 
name  is  Charles  Toy." 

"  Know  anything  about  him?  " 

1  Very  little,  except  that  he  isn't  one  of  the  '  in 
bond'  gang.  He  has  been  here  about  three  years. 
He  runs  an  orderly  place,  has  never  had  any  trou 
ble  with  the  police,  so  far  as  I  have  heard,  and  our 
customs  agents'  work  has  never  led  in  his 
direction.  A  rather  tall,  stout,  dignified  old 
party  with  spectacles — and  American  clothes,  of 
course." 

"  Why  of  course?  " 

"No  Chinaman  in  San  Antonio  ever  appears  in 
public  in  Chinese  clothes.  A  relic,  I  suppose,  of 
the  days  when  the  cowboys  would  have  played 
horse  with  them  if  they  did." 

Napier  returned  to  the  subject  of  Spanish 
crowds,  in  which  he  might  find  the  face  of  Kalat 
Pasha. 

"  You  will  see  crowds  enough  here  next  week," 
Lamb  told  him.  "  The  Fiesta  opens  on  Monday. 
Everybody  in  town  will  be  out  on  the  main  streets 
at  one  time  or  another.  It  isn't  unusual  for  fifty 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  17 

or  sixty  thousand  people  to  get  out  to  see  any  one 
of  the  big  parades." 

So  for  lack  of  any  better  system,  Napier  had 
circulated  through  the  crowds;  in  the  lobbies  of 
the  big  hotels,  as  busy  now  as  they  had  been  in 
the  height  of  the  winter  tourist  season;  in  hotel 
dining  rooms  and  restaurants ;  on  the  sidewalk  in 
front  of  theatres  and  moving-picture  houses, 
while  audiences  were  gathering  and  being  dis 
missed;  through  the  downtown  streets  and  plazas, 
sometimes  afoot,  more  often  in  a  slow-moving 
automobile,  scrutinizing  the  throngs  intently,  al 
ways  hoping  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Kalat's  dis 
tinguished  features.  Several  times  he  had 
thought  his  quest  was  to  be  rewarded;  then  the 
man  would  turn  his  head,  or  laugh,  or  speak,  and 
he  would  realize  that  this  was  only  another  hand 
some  Mexican.  The  recurrence  of  these  experi 
ences  emphasized  how  correct  had  been  his  opinion 
that  Kalat  would  have  no  difficulty,  so  far  as 
appearance  was  concerned  at  least,  in  passing  as 
Spanish. 

Napier  was  not  at  all  discouraged.  Almost 
infinite  patience  is  a  first  qualification  for  success 
in  the  Treasury  Department  secret  service,  and 
only  three  days  had  elapsed ;  if  he  found  his  man 
in  a  week  or  a  fortnight  he  would  be  fortunate. 

Except  for  the  customs  collector  and  two  or 
three  of  the  agents  at  the  Treasury  Department 
in  the  Federal  Building,  he  had  seen  no  one  he 
knew.  In  all  the  thousands  of  eyes  into  which 
he  had  looked,  none  had  twinkled  with  the  faint- 


18  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

est  sign  of  recognition.  But  now,  early  in  the 
evening  of  the  first  big  pageant,  when  the  crowds 
were  gathering  to  welcome  the  King  of  the  Fiesta 
and  to  witness  the  ceremonies  of  presenting  him 
the  keys  of  the  city,  a  woman  smiled  at  him  and 
bowed. 

He  recognized  her  instantly  and  bowed  in  re 
turn;  then  he  had  passed  her.  She  was  standing 
at  the  curb  in  a  group  of  well-dressed  people,  and 
even  in  a  city  where  beautiful  women  are  by  no 
means  rare,  she  was  one  to  command  more  than 
a  transient  look  from  any  eye.  Napier  knew  she 
must  be  nearly  forty;  it  was  five  years  since  he 
had  seen  her,  and  she  had  been  in  her  early 
thirties  then,  but  her  looks  denied  it.  It  was  to 
be  presumed  that  artistry  had  some  share  in  the 
freshness  of  her  complexion,  and  the  artificial 
illumination,  bright  as  it  was,  would  be  kind  to 
her,  but  his  feeling,  nevertheless,  was  one  of  sur 
prise  at  her  youthfulness. 

Twice  or  three  times  he  had  met  her,  in  Paris. 
They  had  been  members  of  a  dinner  party,  with 
the  theatre  afterward.  He  had  run  into  her, 
a  week  later,  in  the  mob  at  an  official  recep 
tion.  She  was  Madame  Frezzi,  supposed  to  be 
Italian;  he  recalled  that  some  of  the  people  at 
the  dinner  party  had  called  her  "  Madame 
Lucia."  He  had  asked  Brainard,  at  the  Amer 
ican  Embassy,  at  a  convenient  moment,  who  and 
what  she  was. 

"A  beautiful  lady  with  an  absent  husband," 
Brainard  had  laughed.  "And  further  than  that, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  19 

deponent  saieth  not,  because  deponent  knoweth 
not.  She  has  money;  you  can  see  that  from  her 
jewelry.  And  good  breeding;  that  is  obvious. 
And  powerful  friends.  And  that  is  about  as  far 
as  I  can  go.  It  has  been  gossiped  that  she  has 
been  not  without  influence  with  members  of  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies,  but  she  is  no  ordinary 
lobbyist.  We  have  thought,  at  times,  she  might 
be  on  somebody's  secret  diplomatic  staff,  which 
would  presumably  mean  Italy's,  but  we've  never 
felt  sure.  These  Latin  peoples  keep  so  many 
beautiful  women  at  the  capitals  of  other  govern 
ments,  you  can't  hope  to  keep  track  of  all  of 
them."  * 

What,  he  wondered  idly,  was  Madame  Lucia, 
former  frequenter  of  Parisian  salons,  doing  in 
America, — especially  away  down  here  in  the 
Southwest.  The  matter  did  not  intrigue  him 
greatly;  for  all  he  knew  she  might  have  been 
living  in  the  United  States  four  years  or  more. 
What  more  natural,  in  that  event,  than  that  she 
should  go  a-touring  to  witness  an  American  car 
nival  that  gave  promise  of  having  an  interesting 
Latin  color.  He  would  keep  his  eyes  open  for 
her  at  the  hotels,  he  thought.  He  would  need 
to  remember  how  Brainard  had  identified  him,  at 
the  moment  of  their  introduction.  Merely  as  a 
traveling  American,  he  recalled.  She  would 
have  no  knowledge  of  his  connection  with  the 
government;  he,  too,  if  they  met,  would  be  a 
tourist. 

Mounted  policemen  came  clattering,  ordering 


20  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

vehicles  from  the  streets  that  formed  the  path 
for  the  coming  parade,  and  he  descended  from  his 
car,  arranged  for  it  to  wait  in  a  side  street,  and 
mingled  afoot  with  the  crowds.  He  had  an  im 
pulse  to  return  to  where  he  had  seen  Madame 
Lucia,  but  the  throng  was  too  solid  for  him  to 
reach  there  before  the  head  of  the  parade  arrived, 
and  after  the  procession  had  passed  he  gave  the 
idea  up ;  it  was  unlikely  she  would  be  in  the  same 
place.  He  found  his  car  again  and  had  his  driver 
edge  into  the  stream  of  automobiles  that  was 
filtering  from  every  side  into  the  principal  streets, 
now  again  open  to  vehicular  traffic. 

They  were  slow  processions,  two  in  each  street, 
passing  one  another  in  compact  lines,  every  chauf 
feur  on  the  alert  to  avoid  pedestrians  who  walked 
and  ran  and  skipped  and  shouted  between  the 
curbs.  The  downtown  streets  in  Fiesta  week 
belong  to  those  afoot;  vehicles,  there  by  suffer 
ance  of  the  masses  who  walk,  must  watch  their 
brakes.  The  long  lines  of  cars  barely  crawled, 
a  matter  which  worried  none  of  their  occupants ; 
if  they  had  been  in  haste  they  would  have  taken 
other  and  parallel  streets.  There  were  frequent 
blockades  and  jerky  stops  and  starts. 

During  one  of  these  stops  Napier  became  sud 
denly  conscious  of  a  face  in  an  automobile  di 
rectly  opposite  him  and  not  four  feet  distant, 
the  face  of  a  girl,  strange  and  yet  hauntingly 
familiar.  As  their  eyes  met,  he  had  the  tempta 
tion  to  bow  and  the  immediate  afterthought  that 
he  ought  not;  that  he  did  not  really  know  her. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  21 

Then,  before  he  had  fairly  reached  this  conclu 
sion,  the  girl's  face  lighted  with  recognition,  she 
bowed  and  smiled  quite  cordially,  and,  although 
he  could  hear  nothing  above  the  racket  of  the 
cars  and  crowds,  he  thought  her  lips  shaped  the 
words,  "  Why,  Mr.  Napier!  " 

The  little  traffic  blockade  broke  and  she  was 
gone.  And  still,  although  he  had  returned  the 
bow  and  smile  with  a  feeling  that  this  could  not 
be  a  mistake,  that  he  knew  the  girl  perfectly,  and 
that  it  was  only  an  embarrassing  mental  lapse 
that  prevented  his  recalling  who  she  was,  her 
name  refused  to  come  to  him.  She  was  plainly 
a  girl  of  class,  such  as  he  might  have  met  at  the 
home  of  some  friend ;  in  fact,  his  mind  held  a  dis 
tinct  impression  that  his  meeting  with  her  had 
been  purely  social.  Some  chance  acquaintance 
in  Washington  or  New  York,  perhaps,  down  here 
for  the  carnival.  He  started  to  put  it  from  his 
mind  as  quite  unimportant,  reminding  himself 
that  one  cannot  hope  to  remember  every  girl  one 
meets  for  a  moment  and  exchanges  a  dozen  sen 
tences  with,  even  as  pretty  a  girl  as  this  one,  but, 
somehow,  he  could  not.  Some  subconscious  force 
was  urging  him  to  try  to  place  her. 

Although  his  eyes  had  been  all  for  the  girl,  it 
came  to  him  that  in  the  tonneau  beside  her  had 
sat  an  elderly  man,  thin,  grim  and  rather  strik 
ing  in  appearance,  although  there  was  absolutely 
nothing  familiar  about  his  face.  An  old  army 
man,  perhaps;  the  way  he  held  his  shoulders 
would  fortify  that  guess.  Vaguely  the  girl  be- 


22  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

gan  to  associate  herself  in  his  mind  with  some 
quite  unusual  occasion.  Some  army  occasion? 
Yes.  A  tea  table?  Yes,  he  thought  so,  but  not 
an  ordinary  tea  table  in  an  ordinary  place.  Had 
it  been  at  some  army  officer's  home?  Somewhere 
abroad?  In  Europe  or  the  East?  Could  it  have 
been 

"Turnaround!  Quick!  I've  got  to  follow  a 
car  we  just  passed!  "  he  snapped  at  his  chauffeur. 

He  recalled  it  now  as  though  the  incident  had 
taken  place  that  afternoon. 

The  last  time  he  had  seen  that  girl  was  in 
Shanghai,  and  she  was  playing  tennis  with  Yusef 
Kalat. 


CHAPTER  II 

"  PROUD  chance ! "  remarked  the  chauffeur,  un 
emotionally,  sounding  his  horn  and  twisting  his 
wheel  to  miss  by  a  hair  a  twelve-year-old  Mexican 
boy  who  had  dashed  from  the  curb  as  though  not 
an  automobile  existed  in  the  world.  "  Even  if 
there  wasn't  no  crowd,  it's  against  traffic  rules. 
I  can  turn  off  at  the  next  comer  if  you  want." 

Napier  leaned  out,  looking  back.  His  im 
pulse  was  to  leap  to  the  ground  and  overtake  the 
other  car  on  foot.  How  hopeless  this  would  be 
he  realized  when  he  saw  how  jammed  and  slow- 
moving  were  the  thousands  that  blocked  the 
street.  Besides,  the  girl  must  be  at  least  two 
blocks  away  by  now.  Her  car  might  even  have 
turned  into  another  street. 

"  Get  out  of  this  crowd,"  he  commanded  his 
driver.  "  Go  to  the  left  and  let's  get  around  into 
Alamo  Plaza.  Maybe  we'll  meet  it  again." 

"  Can't  go  to  the  left — not  for  five  blocks,  any 
way.  Special  rules  this  week  don't  let  us  cut 
across  the  cars  that  are  coming  the  other  way, 
not  in  these  streets." 

Napier  fumed  impatiently.  "  To  the  right, 
then.  Get  out  of  the  crowd  any  way  you  can, 
and  go  around  it  somehow.  There  isn't  a  chance 
in  a  hundred  we  can  find  that  car,  but  we'll 
try  to." 


24  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

The  chauffeur  obeyed  intelligently.  Out  of 
the  crowd,  around  blocks  where  traffic  was  light, 
into  the  congested  streets  and  plazas  again,  out 
of  them  and  into  them.  A  hundred  to  one  did 
not  express  the  slimness  of  the  chance;  it  was 
nearer  a  thousand  to  one.  But  not  for  nearly 
two  hours,  when  the  brimming  streets  had  spilled 
most  of  their  human  floods  toward  the  residential 
districts  and  there  were  hardly  more  people 
abroad  than  there  would  be  on  a  fairly  busy  night 
of  an  ordinary  week,  did  Napier  give  it  up. 

Sharper  and  more  distinct,  as  this  time  passed, 
the  picture  of  where  and  how  he  had  met  the  girl 
came  back  to  his  mind. 

A  long,  wide  veranda.  Women  in  summery 
gowns,  men  in  business  clothes,  in  flannels,  a  few 
in  uniform.  The  clatter  of  horses*  hoofs,  the 
alighting  of  their  riders,  the  high-pitched,  clack 
ing  dialogue  of  the  horseboys  who  led  the  animals 
away.  A  buzz  about  him  of  well-bred  voices. 
Talk  of  the  current  social  affairs,  of  the  latest 
diplomatic  gossip,  of  who  lost  last  night  at  bridge 
and  who  hoped  to  win  to-day  at  golf.  A  babel 
of  tongues,  in  which  English  predominated. 
Pink  faces  and  sallow  ones,  tanned  faces  and 
olive  ones;  above  the  blue  robes  of  the  servants 
who  came  noiselessly  to  serve  tea  at  the  teakwood 
tables,  faces  yellow,  narrow-eyed,  expressionless. 

Broad  lawns  and  spacious  athletic  grounds. 
A  straight  white  road,  beyond  it  fields  of  lush 
green,  a  native  hamlet  in  the  middle  distance  and, 
far  across  the  plain,  the  graceful,  glistening  tiers 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  25 

of  the  Porcelain  Pagoda.  A  sunshiny  afternoon 
in  spring  at  the  Bubbling  Well  Road  Country 
Club. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Napier!"  A  pleasant,  drawling 
American  voice;  a  handsome,  stylishly  garbed 
woman  of  middle  age.  '  Won't  you  have  your 
tea  with  us? " 

He  dropped  with  pleasure  into  the  seat  she 
indicated ;  he  had  not  been  sure  of  seeing  anybody 
he  knew,  although  one  who  had  a  guest  card  at 
the  Bubbling  Well  Club  could  nearly  always 
reckon  on  finding  acquaintances  there  on  a  pleas 
ant  afternoon.  Not  until  he  was  seated  did  it 
occur  to  the  woman  to  introduce  the  girl  at  her 
side: 

"  Haven't  you  two  ever  met?  I  thought  of 
course  you  had.  Let  me  present  Mr.  Napier, 
Miss  Glenn.  Miss  Glenn  is  an  army  girl;  from 
my  State — Ohio,  you  know." 

Miss  Glenn  was  a  very  attractive  girl,  un 
deniably,  but  as  he  now  recalled  the  meeting,  he 
realized  why  her  face  seemed  only  partially 
familiar  an  hour  ago.  The  Miss  Glenn  of  the 
tea  across  the  teakwood  table  was  a  young  person 
of  sixteen,  or  perhaps  seventeen.  Eight  sum 
mers  and  winters  had  rolled  by  since  then.  She 
had  grown  up. 

Her  recognizing  him  so  quickly  was  quite  a 
different  matter.  He  had  changed  very  little. 

He  could  not  definitely  recall  a  thing  they  had 
said.  There  had  been  the  usual  reference  to 
common  acquaintances,  perhaps  some  inter- 


26  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

change  of  customary  triteness  regarding  the 
East,  and  he  vaguely  recollected  a  bit  of  talk  re 
garding  army  posts  at  which  the  girl  had  lived. 
She  mentioned,  he  remembered,  that  she  was  go 
ing  to  play  tennis  that  afternoon;  she  was  in 
clothes  suitable  for  the  game  and  had  a  racquet 
case. 

He  remembered  he  had  tried  to  make  himself 
agreeable  in  a  perfunctory  sort  of  way,  and  that 
she  had  seemed  to  be  very  pleasant  and  unaf 
fected,  with  the  frank  sophistication  that  comes  to 
American  girls  from  much  travel  and  cosmo 
politan  acquaintanceship.  "A  nice  kid,"  had  been 
his  thought  of  her  in  after  days  so  long  as  he  had 
remembered  her,  which  was  not  long.  His  holi 
day  was  ending  that  afternoon;  he  returned  to 
Peking  the  following  morning;  once  there,  he 
had  many  things  to  think  of  more  engrossing 
than  pretty  American  sub-debutantes. 

Other  people  came  to  their  table,  and  Miss 
Glenn  finally  left,  with  some  girl  of  her  own 
age — an  English  girl,  he  thought — to  join  a 
party  of  young  people  in  a  farther  corner  of  the 
veranda.  After  a  while  he,  too,  had  seen  some 
other  acquaintances,  and  had  excused  himself  and 
gone  over  to  their  table.  It  had  been  some  time 
after  this  that  he  observed  the  arrival  of  Yusef 
Kalat  Bey. 

The  Oriental,  in  flannels  and  carrying  a  rac 
quet,  came  up  the  steps  of  the  veranda  and  swept 
it  with  his  eyes,  bowing  once  or  twice  to  acquaint 
ances  before  he  located  Miss  Glenn.  Then  he 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  27 

hurried  over  to  her  side,  and  together  they  de 
parted  in  the  direction  of  the  tennis  courts,  chat 
ting  and  laughing. 

All  this  made  almost  no  impresson  on  Napier 
at  the  moment.  He  had  no  interest  in  Miss 
Glenn,  and  Kalat  Bey  was  to  him  merely  a  very 
good-looking  young  representative  of  the  Otto 
man  Empire  of  whom  older  men  said  he  prom 
ised  to  go  quite  a  way  in  diplomacy.  Napier 
might  hardly  have  noticed  the  girl's  partner  had 
not  two  dowagers,  sitting  near  enough  to  his 
table  so  that  their  voices  carried  that  far — and 
not  at  all  careful  whether  they  were  overheard  or 
not — seen  fit  to  make  comment,  after  the  fashion 
of  piazza  dowagers  the  world  over. 

"  There  goes  Ruth  Glenn  with  that  young 
Turk  again.  If  I  were  her  father " 

"  He's  a  pretty  decent  young  man,  isn't  he? " 
the  other  half  defended,  when  the  first  left  her 
sentence  significantly  unfinished.  "  I'll  say  this 
for  him:  I  wish  some  of  our  own  young  men 
were  as  invariably  polite  as  he  is.  And  as  for  the 

Glenn  child It  is  just  a  matter  of  playing 

tennis  together,  isn't  it?  " 

The  woman  who  had  introduced  the  subject — 
she  looked  to  be  the  elder  of  the  pair — disposed 
of  the  whole  matter  in  five  short  words: 

"  A  Turk  is  a  Turk." 

Napier  tried,  now,  to  remember  whether  or 
not  he  had  ever  heard  anything  about  Miss 
Glenn's  father.  If  he  were  mentioned  during 
that  tea-table  meeting  he  could  not  recall  it,  nor 


28  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

did  he  remember  ever  having  known  an  Ameri 
can  army  officer  of  that  name  in  the  East.  This, 
he  had  to  admit,  by  no  means  proved  that  he  had 
not ;  in  China,  Japan,  the  Philippines  and  Hono 
lulu  he  had  run  into  at  least  a  hundred  whose 
names  he  did  not  recall.  If  he  had  met  one 
named  Glenn  after  his  introduction  to  the  girl, 
he  probably  would  have  noted  the  name,  but  this 
brief  meeting  at  the  Bubbling  Well  Road  Club 
was  almost  on  the  eve  of  his  leaving  China  for 
home. 

Was  the  tall,  grim  man  in  the  automobile  her 
father?  He  wasn't  in  uniform,  and  her  father 
would  hardly  be  old  enough  to  have  been  retired 
for  age.  Would  it  be  possible  to  find  them  at  a 
hotel,  or  were  they  perhaps  permanent  residents 
of  San  Antonio,  as  so  many  retired  army  people 
are?  Were  they  here  because  Kalat  Pasha  was 
here,  or  was  their  presence  a  mere  coincidence? 

He  decided,  at  last,  that  there  was  no  chance 
whatever  of  finding  the  automobile  and  its  occu 
pants  that  night.  "  We'll  call  it  a  day,"  he  told 
the  chauffeur.  "  Get  back  to  the  hotel." 

The  big,  high-ceilinged  lobby  of  the  Bonham 
was  filled  with  people  as  he  entered  after  dismiss 
ing  the  motor.  He  made  his  way  to  the  desk  and 
called  for  his  room  key.  A  soft  voice  at  his 
elbow,  as  he  turned  from  the  desk,  accosted  him: 

"  Excoose  me.     You  are  Meester  Napier?  " 

He  felt  sure  the  man  had  not  just  crossed  the 
floor  toward  him,  but  had  been  standing  there 
when  he  came.  From  this,  before  he  answered, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  29 

he  deduced  that  the  other  did  not  know  him  by 
sight,  but  had  ascertained  the  number  of  his  room 
and  had  been  waiting  for  him  to  call  for  the 
key. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied. 

"  If  I  could  spik  to  you,  pliz,  a  moment " 

The  man  was  a  Mexican,  young,  perhaps  not 
much  over  twenty,  neatly  but  not  expensively 
dressed.  His  manner  was  excessively  polite  and 
the  smile  that  he  was  displaying  for  Napier's 
benefit  was  ingratiating  but  not  pleasant.  Three 
other  things  beside  the  smile  Napier  noted  as  his 
eyes  appraised  the  youth's  face :  He  had  a  slight 
but  not  especially  disfiguring  scar  near  the  angle 
of  the  left  jawbone,  under  the  ear;  his  skin  bore 
a  rather  striking  and  unhealthy  pallor;  and  there 
was  a  story  in  the  pupils  of  his  eyes, — a  story 
easy  to  read  by  any  physician  or  any  student  of 
men  who  had  lived  long  in  the  East.  Two  facts 
about  the  youth  Napier  determined  in  one 
glance;  he  had  at  some  fairly  distant  time  been 
nicked  across  the  jaw  by  the  blade  of  a  knife,  and 
he  was  an  addict  to  some  form  of  drug. 

"  What  about? " 

Napier's  tone  was  frankly  suspicious, — the 
tone  one  uses  to  the  pan-handler  who  seeks  to 
gain  time  to  recount  his  woeful  explanation  of 
why  he  requires,  at  once,  a  bit  of  financial  assist 
ance.  The  Mexican  continued  to  smile,  taking 
no  offense. 

"  No,"  he  said  quickly.  "  You  have  guess'  me 
wrong.  I  am  not  asking  you  to  do  me  any  favor 


30  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

at  all.  I  have  a  message  for  you.  A  message 
that  ees  in  confidence." 

He  giggled  slightly,  a  bit  unsteadily,  and 
Napier  saw  that  he  was  unnaturally  elated;  he 
had  soothed  himself  with  his  drug  not  long  before 
and  was  distinctly  under  its  influence.  "  No," 
he  went  on,  and  again  he  laughed  a  little.  "  No 
favor  for  me  at  all.  It  ees  a  favor  for  you." 

Napier  moved  with  him  away  from  the  busy 
counter  and  across  the  lobby  to  a  comparatively 
open  space. 

"  It  ees  a  message,"  the  Mexican  said,  still  gig 
gling  a  little.  "  From  a  lady  who  smiled  at  you 
this  evening,  Meester  Napier.  A  lady  you  have 
not  see'  for  a  long  time.  She  says  she  guess  you 
will  know  from  that  wno  I  mean." 

"What  is  her  name?" 

"  Excoose,"  the  man  apologized.  "  She  did 
not  say  to  spik  her  name."  He  added  uncon- 
vincingly:  "  I  do  not  know  her  name." 

"  How  did  she  know  where  to  find  me?  And 
how  did  you  know  me  when  I  came?  " 

"  She  told  me  to  go  to  the  beeg  hotels.  I  hap 
pen'  to  come  to  this  one  first.  As  to  knowing 
you — she  describe'  you  ver'  good,  so  when  you 
call'  for  the  key  I  have  no  doubt."  Again  a  little 
giggle.  "  She  said  you  would  be  a  ver'  hand 
some,  ver'  dark  man.  She  especially  describe' 
the  eyes.  Oh,  yes.  That  lady  describe'  you 
perfect.  So.  She  sends  you  this  message.  She 
wishes  to  see  you — to-night.  Now." 

"  Where? " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  31 

"'I  am  to  show  you.  I  will  go  out  from  here 
and  you  will  follow  me,  pliz.  We  will  not  walk 
together.  There  is  ^good  reason  for  that.  You 
will  follow  me,  and  we  will  come  to  that  place 
where  the  lady  waits.  Ees  that  not — fair 
enough? " 

Napier  did  not  at  all  relish  the  leer  that  accom 
panied  the  Mexican's  attempt  at  American  slang. 
He  could  not  see  what  reason  Miss  Glenn  would 
have  for  sending  for  him  at  such  an  hour,  nor  did 
he  like  her  choice  of  a  messenger,  but  he  felt  in 
tensely  annoyed  at  the  inference  the  man  had 
obviously  gained  from  his  errand.  Although, 
until  this  moment,  he  had  been  searching  nearly 
two  hours  for  the  girl,  his  impulse  now  was  not  to 
see  her  until  to-morrow;  as  she  wanted  to  see 
him,  it  was  safe  to  presume  this  could  be  ar 
ranged.  And  then  a  new  idea  came  into  his 
mind,  a  thought  that  he  should  have  had  from 
the  beginning  and  would  have  had,  except  that 
his  brain  was  filled  with  the  desire  to  locate  the 
girl  in  the  automobile,  to  the  exclusion  of  all 
other  ideas. 

Why  was  he  taking  it  for  granted  the  message 
came  from  Miss  Glenn?  Two  women  had  smiled 
at  him  that  night. 


CHAPTER  III 

"  WHERE  was  I  when  the  lady  smiled? "  he 
demanded. 

"In  an  automobile,"  the  Mexican  replied 
promptly.  "  Yes,  I  didn't  remember  to  spik  of 
that.  She  said  in  an  automobile." 

"  And  she?     Where  was  she?  " 

"  She  did  not  say." 

"  Describe  her." 

Again  the  Mexican's  face  bore  that  insinuat 
ing  leer,  and  again  he  giggled  offensively.  "  She 
is  a  ver'  pretty  lady,"  he  said.  "  Yes,  sir.  She 
ees  certainly  " — again  he  went  after  the  Ameri 
can  way  to  say  it — "  a  peach  of  a  good-looker." 

Napier  was  both  irritated  and  disgusted,  and  it 
was  getting  well  along  toward  midnight. 

"  Tell  the  lady  it  was  very  late  when  you  found 
me,"  he  said  shortly,  "  and  that  I  should  be  glad 
to  have  her  call  me  here  at  the  hotel  by  'phone." 

"  Excoose,"  the  man  insisted.  "  She  said  I 
was  to  bring  you  back  with  me — pronto.  She 
said  I  should  tell  you  you  better  come.  She  said 
it  would  help  you  in  your  beesness." 

"  What  is  my  business?  "  Napier  threw  at  him, 
and  from  the  way  the  Mexican  shrugged  and 
grinned  he  knew  the  fellow  hadn't  the  slightest 
idea. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  33 

"Search  me!" 

Napier  considered  rapidly.  It  could  be  pos 
sible,  although  highly  improbable,  that  either  of 
the  two  women  who  had  recognized  him  smilingly 
might  have  an  inkling  of  his  real  occupation,  and 
certainly,  if  the  one  who  had  sent  the  messenger 
were  Miss  Glenn,  there  was  pretty  good  ground 
for  believing  she  could  help  him  if  she  desired. 
More  likely,  of  course,  the  message  didn't  mean 
what  it  sounded  as  if  it  might  mean,  at  all,  and 
yet 

"  How  far  is  it?  I  suppose  I  could  get  a  car," 
he  decided. 

"  No."  The  Mexican's  negative  was  em 
phatic.  "  We  cannot  go  in  a  car.  We  cannot 
go  together  at  all.  You  will  follow  me,  a  little 
way  behind.  There  is  good  reason  for  that. 
The  lady  said  so  herself.  It  ees  not  such  a  much 
of  a  distance." 

"  All  right.  Wait  here  until  I  go  to  my  room 
for  a  minute." 

The  Mexican  must  have  solaced  himself  with 
his  drug  not  long  before  Napier  arrived,  for  its 
influence  on  him  was  becoming  more  pronounced. 
He  laughed  shrilly. 

"Fair  enough!"  he  cried.  "Fair  enough! 
You  want  to  go  to  your  room  and  leave  your 
money,  for  fear  this  ees  some  leetle  game  to  rob 
you  or  something.  All  right,  meester.  Go 
leave  your  money.  But  I  do  not  need  it.  Poof ! 
I  am  neither  robber  nor  beggar." 

Into  a  waistcoat  pocket,  a  bit  hysterical  and 


34  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

altogether  reckless,  he  thrust  hurried  fingers,  and 
brought  out  folded  bills.  There  seemed  to  be 
several,  and  one  of  them,  at  least,  was  yellow. 
"  Jus'  to  show  you  I  do  not  need  your  money," 
he  giggled,  "and  that  you  do  not  need  to  be 
afraid  of  me  at  all.  A  beeg  man  like  you  could 
not  be  afraid  of  a  leetle  fellow  like  me  anyway,  I 
guess." 

Out  of  his  pocket,  when  he  dragged  forth  the 
bills,  another  paper  came,  and  slipped  to  the 
floor.  It,  too,  was  folded,  and  Napier's  eyes  fell 
upon  it  as  it  came  to  rest  on  the  tiling.  In  the 
clear  illumination  of  the  lobby  it  shone  luridly, — 
a  paper  of  a  bright  orange  tint,  with  black  mark 
ings  of  a  most  unusual  character.  Chinese  ideo 
graphs. 

The  Mexican  looked  down  and  saw  the  paper 
at  his  feet.  He  made  a  hasty  swoop,  and  it  dis 
appeared  in  his  pocket.  He  caught  his  breath 
and  looked  about  him,  giggling  no  longer.  It 
was  very  obvious  he  was  frightened. 

A  light-skinned,  foreign-looking  man  of  mid 
dle  age,  who  would  have  been  quite  handsome 
were  it  not  for  large  pock-marks  on  either  side  of 
his  nose,  had  dropped  into  a  chair  a  dozen  feet 
away  since  Napier  and  the  youth  began  to  talk, 
and  buried  himself  in  the  folds  of  an  evening 
paper.  When  the  orange  slip  went  fluttering  to 
the  floor  his  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  it.  He  was 
again  behind  his  paper  when  the  youth,  after  sal 
vaging  it,  looked  in  his  direction. 

"  I'm  not  especially  afraid  of  you,"  Napier  re- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  35 

marked,  coldly.  "  At  the  same  time  I'll  feel  just 
as  safe  if  you  know  I  haven't  got  enough  on  me 
to  make  any  hold-up  worth  while.  I'll  go  to  my 
room,  and  be  right  down  again." 

The  Mexican  seemed  glad  to  find  an  excuse  to 
make  for  the  open  air.  He  had  been  surpris 
ingly  shaken  and  sobered  by  the  sight  of  the  care 
lessly  exposed  orange-colored  paper,  and  Napier 
thought  he  knew  why. 

"  You  will  see  me  outside,  on  the  street  by  the 
corner,"  the  man  said.  "  Pliz  do  not  spik  to 
me  after  we  are  out  on  the  street,  and  pliz 
do  not  come  too  close  to  me.  When  we  get 
to  that  house  where  we  are  going,  I  will  show 
you." 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  Napier  called,  as  the  other 
turned.  "  What  is  your  name?  " 

The  Mexican  hesitated  almost  imperceptibly. 
"Jose  Garcia,"  he  said.  Napier  knew  there 
were  probably  at  least  two  hundred  Jose  Garcias 
in  San  Antonio,  and  he  felt  sure  this  pallid  little 
man  was  not  one  of  them. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  shortly.  "I'll  follow 
you." 

The  little  Mexican  was  trying  to  get  his  nerves 
in  hand.  These  words  suggested  a  bit  of  ancient 
American  slang.  He  achieved  a  hysterical  gig 
gle  and  replied: 

"  That's  right.  You  follow  me,  meester,  and 
you'll  wear  diamonds." 

How  jangled  were  his  nerves  was  demon 
strated  by  the  way  he  shrilled  the  sentence.  The 


36  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

last  word  he  almost  shouted.  He  turned  and 
went  out  through  the  side  door. 

Napier  entered  an  elevator  and  hurried  to  his 
room.  He  opened  his  trunk  and  took  two  ar 
ticles  from  the  tray.  One,  a  little  businesslike 
automatic  pistol,  he  dropped  into  the  side  pocket 
of  his  light  overcoat.  The  other,  a  small,  rec 
tangular,  flat  electric  flashlight,  he  tested  and 
stowed  in  his  hip  pocket.  He  started  to  close  the 
trunk,  remembered  the  Mexican's  suggestion 
about  money  and  thought  well  of  it,  hid  all  the 
cash  he  had  in  his  pockets  except  less  than  twenty 
dollars,  locked  the  trunk,  went  down  and  left 
his  room  key  at  the  desk,  and  passed  out  to  the 
street. 

The  messenger  stood  at  the  nearby  corner, 
staring  at  a  window  display.  As  Napier  swung 
toward  him  he  turned  away  and  went  around  the 
corner,  headed  west. 

From  the  side  entrance,  the  middle-aged  man 
with  the  pock-marks  down  the  sides  of  his  nose, 
who  had  remained  engrossed  in  his  newspaper 
until  Napier  came  down  in  the  elevator,  watched 
them  both  out  of  sight.  As  soon  as  he  was  cer 
tain  of  the  direction  they  had  taken,  he  turned 
briskly  and  hurried  toward  the  telephone  pay 
station.  Nearly  there,  he  had  an  afterthought. 
He  spun  on  his  heel,  left  the  hotel  by  the  main 
entrance  and  crossed  the  street  to  the  entrance  of 
a  big  business  block.  In  the  open  and  deserted 
lobby  of  that  building  was  a  coin-in-the-slot  tele 
phone  booth.  He  entered  it,  closed  the  door  be- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  37 

hind  him  carefully,  and  called  a  number.  When, 
after  much  impatience,  he  had  secured  the  person 
he  wanted,  he  spoke  rapidly  in  Spanish: 

"  Villabosa  is  talking.  Attend,  and  do  not  ask 
questions.  This  must  be  told  to  the  old  man  at 
once.  Without  a  minute's  delay.  You  know 
the  little  man  of  the  angels — do  you  get  who  I 
mean?  It  is  better  to  speak  no  names." 

"  Once  of  the  city  Piedras  Negras?  "  the  voice 
at  the  other  end  of  the  wire  asked. 

"  You  have  it.  Now  listen.  He  has  just  met 
a  man,  an  American,  and  is  leading  him  in  the 
direction  of — of  the  big  house — the  house  with 
the  safe  padlocks.  Understand?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  He  approached  the  American.  I  could  not 
hear  what  they  said,  except  one  word.  Tell  the 
old  man  the  word  was  '  diamonds.'  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  attend  to  this.  Tell  the  old  man  also 
that  he  has  the  label  that  was  lost." 

"Who  has?" 

"  The  little  man.     He  showed  it  to  the  Ameri 


can." 


The  fool.     He  must  be 


"  Do  not  comment,  but  give  the  message  at 
once.  They  are  afoot,  and  have  just  left  down 
town — five  minutes  ago.  They  will  not  walk 
fast,  probably.  You  have  fifteen  minutes,  per 
haps  twenty.  Tell  the  old  man  the  little  one  did 
not  see  me.  He  does  not  suspect  he  is  watched; 
if  he  did,  he  would  not  be  doing  it." 


38  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  But Why  do  you  think  they  are  going 

to  the  place  you  mention?  " 

"  The  label  came  from  there,  did  it  not?  Is  it 
not  plain  the  house  is  to  be  pointed  out?  " 

"But  why?" 

"  How  do  I  know?  To  be  robbed,  perhaps. 
But  let  the  old  man  consider  that.  Tell  him." 

"  Within  two  minutes.     Is  that  all?  " 

"  Yes.  No,  wait.  The  label  that  was  lost  is 
in  his  right-hand  lower  vest  pocket.  That  is  all. 
Good-night." 

Back  across  the  street  to  the  Bonham  hurried 
the  light-complexioned  man  with  the  pock 
marked  nose,  and  into  the  lobby,  which  he  did  not 
leave  to  go  to  his  room  for  more  than  an  hour. 
During  that  hour  he  talked  to  two  night  clerks,  a 
cashier,  a  porter  and  two  other  hotel  guests.  At 
nearly  one  o'clock  he  compared  his  watch  with  the 
hotel  clock  ostentatiously,  and  made  comment  on 
the  time.  He  impressed  on  a  number  of  people 
the  fact  that  he  was  continuously  present ;  to  any 
one  who  knew  what  he  had  witnessed  there  in  the 
lobby  and  of  the  warning  he  had  telephoned  (if 
there  had  been  any  such  person)  it  would  have 
been  obvious  that  the  man  was  establishing  a  per 
fect  alibi. 

Julian  Napier  followed  the  little  Mexican, 
who  did  not  hurry.  With  the  American  half  a 
block  or  more  behind,  they  sauntered  two  blocks 
west  and  turned  to  the  south.  They  came  out, 
presently,  into  Main  Plaza,  and  went  past  great 
canvas-walled  carnival  shows,  the  platforms  be- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  39 

fore  their  gaudily  decorated  fronts  now  deserted, 
and  past  little  booths  with  cane-boards,  wheels  of 
fortune,  and  similar  games,  a  few  of  them  still 
open  and  surrounded  by  lingering  groups  over 
whose  heads  came  the  hoarse  monotone  of  the 
barkers,  urging  their  hearers  to  part  with  a  few 
more  nickels  and  dimes  before  leaving. 

They  came  into  the  shadow  of  the  Cathedral, 
went  through  the  still  street  past  the  ancient 
Moorish  dome  that  marks  the  original  church  of 
the  mission  fathers,  and  came  into  Military 
Plaza,  where  they  skirted  more  tents  and  booths 
and  passed  out  to  the  west,  into  a  narrow  street. 
After  a  little  they  turned  to  the  left.  They  had 
left  the  sounds  of  the  plazas  far  behind  and  these 
thoroughfares  were  deserted  and  silent.  Ahead, 
the  Mexican  went  on,  not  rapidly  but  unhesitat 
ingly.  Napier  lost  sight  of  him  sometimes  in  the 
shadows,  only  to  see  him  again  under  the  lights  at 
street  corners.  He  presumed  his  guide  had  sat 
isfied  himself,  from  time  to  time,  that  he  was 
being  followed,  but  not  once  had  he  paused,  or 
seemed  to  look  behind. 

The  way  led  through  darker,  narrower  streets. 
Napier,  visualizing  the  map  Lamb,  the  collector, 
had  shown  him,  would  have  appreciated  that  they 
were  in  the  borders  of  the  big  Mexican  quarter 
even  if  occasional  signs  in  Spanish  and  the  ap 
pearance  of  the  houses  had  not  advertised  it.  To 
the  west  of  them,  not  more  than  two  or  three 
blocks  distant,  would  be  the  new  Chinese  colony. 
Napier  remembered  the  staring  black  ideo- 


40  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

graphs  on  the  orange  slip  that  the  Mexican  had 
dropped. 

He  saw  his  guide  pass  under  the  rays  of  a  dim 
light,  half  a  block  ahead,  turn  slowly  to  the  right, 
and  disappear.  The  manner  in  which  he  changed 
his  direction  indicated  that  he  wanted  it  espe 
cially  noted.  Napier  came  to  the  light,  himself 
passed  it,  and  saw,  in  the  darkness  at  the  side  of 
the  street,  a  greater  darkness  that  he  made  out  to 
be  the  yawning  mouth  of  a  little  street  or  alley, 
into  which  the  Mexican  had  vanished. 

He  approached  the  alley  with  caution;  he  liked 
neither  its  looks  nor  its  intense  silence.  The 
thoroughfare — if  it  could  properly  be  called  that 
— was  barely  a  dozen  feet  wide.  Looking  west 
ward  into  it  he  could  make  out  nothing  but  high 
walls  of  stone  on  either  side,  the  rear  walls,  he 
took  it,  of  estates  fronting  on  other  streets.  He 
could  see  almost  nothing,  as  he  stopped  at  the 
entrance,  but  far  in  the  distance,  nearly  through 
to  the  next  street,  he  thought  he  heard  retreating 
footsteps.  Convinced  that  the  Mexican  was  still 
ahead  of  him,  he  slipped  his  automatic  out  of  his 
pocket,  saw  that  its  safety  catch  was  adjusted, 
and  stepped  into  the  lane. 

It  was  paved  and  smooth  walking.  His  eyes 
became  a  little  used  to  the  darkness  after  a  mo 
ment,  and  he  moved  on  more  confidently.  He 
had  come  perhaps  ten  yards  from  the  street  when 
he  stumbled,  stepped  on  something  that  yielded 
sickeningly,  and  heard  at  his  feet  a  faint,  gasp 
ing  groan.  He  recoiled  with  a  leap,  getting 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  41 

his  back  against  the  wall  and  holding  his  pistol 
ready. 

No  further  sound  came  from  the  object  he  had 
stumbled  over.  No  sound  came  from  anywhere 
in  the  alley.  The  footsteps  at  the  farther  end 
had  now  faded  from  hearing.  The  silence  was 
oppressive,  sinister.  He  listened  intently; 
changed  his  position  without  noise;  got  out  his 
flashlight. 

Its  sudden  beams  fell  upon  the  figure  of  a  man, 
sprawled  face  down  upon  the  flagstones.  They 
fell,  also,  upon  a  red  stain  that  glistened  on  his 
coat,  just  beneath  the  left  shoulder,  and  trickled 
darkly  away  across  the  pavement.  One  other 
thing  the  light  showed,  before  Napier  turned  it  to 
sweep  in  every  direction  and  prove  that  he  was 
alone  except  for  the  prone  figure, — an  arm  out 
stretched,  a  clenched  fist,  and  in  its  fingers  a 
bright  fragment  of  orange-colored  paper. 

Napier  approached,  leaned  over,  and  turned 
the  man  face  upward. 

A  little  knife  scar  showed  under  the  left  ear,  at 
the  angle  of  the  jaw.  The  face  was  chalky  white. 
The  eyelids  that  fluttered  faintly  at  the  glow  of 
his  lamp  shaded  eyes  in  which  the  pupils  were 
drug-contracted. 

"  He  didn't  get  it,"  whispering  lips  declared. 
"  He  tried — but  I  took  it  back.  I  got  it  back. 
And  then  he  ran." 

"Who?" 

The  question  fell  on  deaf  ears.  Napier  did 
not  think  the  man  even  knew  him. 


42  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  It  was  on  the  box.     I  heard  them  talking." 

The  eyelids  fell  and  raised  again  with  mortal 
weariness.  "Twenty  boxes  I  brought,"  the  youth 
faltered,  while  Napier's  ear  went  nearer  and 
nearer  his  lips  to  catch  the  words.  "  Twenty 
boxes.  And  it  was  in  one  of  them.  I  didn't  know. 
I  thought  they  were  all  alike.  And  they  were 
foolish  to  talk  of  it.  They  didn't  know  I  heard." 

The  eyes  closed  and  the  youth  groaned  faintly. 

"  Who? "  Napier  demanded,  close  to  his  ear. 
"  Who  did  it?  " 

"  All — alike — and  they  were  foolish.  .  .  . 
They  took  off  the  label.  And  talked,  not  know 
ing  I  could  hear.  With  the  label  off,  it  looked 
just  like  the  rest — but  they  put  it  away — by  it 
self.  .  .  .  Then  I  stole  the  label.  .  .  . 
Twenty  all  alike,  but  in  only  one  the  diamond. 
I  didn't  know.  Would  I  have  delivered  it  to 
them  if  I  had  known  about  the  diamond?  For 
el  nombre  de  Dios,  no !  " 

"  Listen!     Who  did  you  deliver  it  to?  " 

He  could  barely  make  out  the  broken  ram- 
blings  that  were  not  an  answer:  "  I  carried  a 

message .  .  .  She  said  just  a  little — 

extra  errand — for  a  little — extra  money.  .  .  . 
They  were  sure  to  kill  me — if  they  ever — found 
out.  ...  I  took — a  chance.  .  .  .  They — 
were — sure — to " 

A  struggling  breath  rattled  past  his  throat. 
His  eyelids  snapped  wide  open  and  the  pinpoint 
pupils  of  his  eyes,  unblinking,  stared  into  the 
vistas  of  a  far  country. 


CHAPTER  IV 

NAPIER  switched  off  his  lamp  and  strained  his 
ears.  The  faintest  rustle  of  a  breeze  in  the 
branches  of  invisible  trees  beyond  the  wall  was 
all  he  heard.  He  bent  over  the  body  again,  illu 
minated  the  clenched  hand,  and  gently  withdrew 
the  orange  paper  from  the  fingers.  It  was  only 
a  part — perhaps  a  quarter — of  the  slip  that  had 
fallen  from  the  Mexican's  pocket  back  in  the 
Bonham.  The  remainder  had  been  torn  away. 
Two  Chinese  characters  were  left. 

Observing  first  that  there  were  no  stains  of 
blood  upon  the  fragment,  Napier  carefully  put  it 
in  his  own  pocket.  He  felt  in  the  vest  pocket 
from  which  the  slip  had  fallen,  back  at  the  hotel, 
and  to  which  the  Mexican  had  returned  it  to 
gether  with  his  little  roll  of  money,  and  found  it 
empty.  A  hasty  sweep  of  his  light's  rays  about 
the  ground  failed  to  show  any  further  trace  of 
the  torn  paper. 

He  carefully  concealed  his  pistol  and  stepped 
quickly  back  to  the  street  through  which  he  had 
come.  Not  a  soul  was  in  sight  in  either  direc 
tion. 

While  he  hesitated,  puzzling  how  best  to  give 
the  alarm,  a  figure  came  around  a  corner  to  the 
north,  a  block  and  half  away,  and  under  the  light 


44  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

he  caught  the  glint  of  a  silver  badge.  He  cupped 
his  hands  and  shouted:  "  Help!  Police!  Hurry!  " 

He  went  a  few  steps  toward  the  officer,  who 
came  on  the  run,  and  met  him  under  the  street 
light  by  whose  rays  he  had  seen  the  little  Mex 
ican  turn  aside  into  the  dark  passage.  "  I  just 
stumbled  over  the  body  of  a  man  there  in  the 
alley,"  he  told  the  policeman.  "  He  is  dead." 

The  officer's  hand  went  to  the  butt  of  his  pistol 
and  hitched  it  more  conveniently  toward  the 
front.  "  We'll  take  a  look,"  he  said,  producing 
a  flashlight.  "  Come  on." 

He  was  a  dark-skinned  man,  at  least  quarter 
and  probably  half  Mexican,  Napier  thought,  and 
looked  very  competent.  He  stooped  not  more 
than  five  seconds  over  the  corpse;  then  straight 
ened  and  blew  several  sharp  blasts  on  his  whistle. 
His  light  swung  suddenly  to  take  in  Napier's 
figure,  and  the  treasury  agent  had  a  feeling  that 
in  the  dense  shadow  behind  the  glare  was  a  hand 
that  would  not  hesitate  to  produce  and  use  fire 
arms. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  he  demanded. 

"  My  name  is  Napier.  I  am  stopping  at  the 
Bonham." 

"  What  are  you  doing  over  here  at  this  hour  of 
the  night?  " 

Napier  did  not  choose  to  identify  himself  to  a 
mere  patrolman  if  it  could  be  avoided.  It  struck 
him  that  perhaps  well-dressed  men  wandering 
through  this  part  of  town  after  midnight  might 
naturally  have  reasons  that  would  not  lend  them- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  45 

selves  to  discussion  without  being  at  all  criminal, 
and  he  tried  to  give  the  policeman  the  idea  that 
his  presence  was  the  outcome  of  some  romantic 
adventure. 

"  I  had  a  little  errand  over  this  way,"  he  said. 

"Where?" 

"  I'd  rather  not  tell  you  exactly  where,  if  you 
don't  mind.  It  is  a  sort  of  personal  matter." 

"  You  can  tell  me,  or  you  can  go  to  the  station 
and  tell  the  cap'n,"  the  officer  decided  promptly. 

"  That's  all  right.  I'll  be  glad  to  have  you 
take  me  to  the  station,  and  I'll  tell  the  captain  if 
he  insists.  I  am  not  anxious  to  get  away,  and  I 
had  nothing  to  do  with  this  killing." 

The  officer  hurled  a  suspicious  question: 

"  How  do  you  know  he  was  killed?  " 

"  He  was  on  his  face — I  turned  him  over  to  see 
if  he  was  alive — and  I  saw  where  he  was  knifed. 
A  man  can't  stab  himself  in  the  back." 

"  You  saw?     How?  " 

"  I  have  a  flashlight," 

Approaching,  a  block  away,  sounded  the  clat 
ter  of  a  swift-moving  horse's  hoofs. 

"  Get  out  ahead  of  me  toward  the  street,"  the 
policeman  commanded.  He  followed  Napier  to 
the  alley  entrance,  at  which  a  mounted  officer 
drew  up  just  as  they  reached  it  and  slid  swiftly 
to  the  ground.  From  the  opposite  direction 
came  the  pounding  footsteps  of  a  man  running, 
and  another  policeman  turned  a  corner  into 
sight. 

"  Man  dead  in  the  alley,"  the  first  officer  told 


46  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

the  horseman  sharply.  "  Knifed  in  the  back. 
You  better  telephone  the  sergeant;  he'll  want  to 
get  word  to  the  coroner  and  send  some  detectives 


over." 


The  other  patrolman  had  arrived,  and  the 
mounted  officer,  with  a  curious  look  at  Napier 
but  no  words  to  waste,  threw  his  leg  over  the 
saddle  and  went  galloping  back  in  the  direction 
of  town.  The  first  policeman  explained  the 
trouble  to  the  newcomer  in  two  sentences,  and 
Napier  returned  with  them  into  the  alley. 

"  Say,  Guerra,  I  ought  to  know  that  guy,"  the 
newcomer  exclaimed,  as  the  flashlight  fell  on  the 
Mexican's  features.  "  I'm  sure  I  know  him,  but 
the  name  don't  come  to  me.  They  look  so  dif 
ferent  when  they're  croaked." 

"  Name  is  Angel  Puenta,"  Guerra  told  him. 
"  I  know  him  well.  He's  a  hop-head." 

"  Sure!  Angel  Puenta,"  the  other  agreed. 
"  Of  course  I  know  him.  They  had  him  at  head 
quarters  on  some  dope  charge  and  couldn't  make 
it  stick.  He  had  an  alibi  or  sump'n." 

"  He  was  friends  with  some  of  them  Chinks 
over  back  here.  He  was  working  with  them  on 
the  hop-peddling,  if  you  ask  me — but  I  couldn't 
prove  it.  ...  Suppose  you  range  around  a 
little  and  see  if  you  can  find  the  knife — or  I  will. 
The  other  one  can  stay  with  the  body  and  this 


man." 


The  second  officer  looked  at  Napier  almost  as 
if  he  had  just  realized  his  presence.  "  He  found 
him,"  Guerra  explained. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  47 

"  What  was  you  doing  here,  mister?  "  the  other 
asked. 

"  Just  passing  through." 

"  Going  where? " 

"  I  already  told  this  officer  I'd  rather  not  say — 
unless  the  captain  insists.  I'll  be  glad  to  go  to 
the  station  and  talk  it  over  with  him." 

"  Sure,"  the  officer  replied.  "  Of  course  you'll 
go  to  the  station.  And  then  you'll  tell  the  cap'n. 
You  might's  well  have  it  over  with." 

"  How  come  you  stopped  to  get  out  a  light  and 
look  the  body  over?  "  Guerra  asked.  "  Seems  to 
me  you  didn't  act  as  scared  as  some  folks  would 
if  they  fell  over  a  dead  body  in  the  dark  that- 
away." 

"  I've  seen  a  good  many  dead  people,  at  one 
time  and  another,"  Napier  answered. 

"  Humph!  "  sniffed  the  policeman.  "  Well," 
to  his  colleague,  "  I'll  scout  around  and  see  if  I 
can  find  a  knife,  or  anything."  This  he  pro 
ceeded  to  do,  without  success.  An  automobile 
roared  up  to  the  mouth  of  the  alley  while  he  was 
still  searching,  and  four  men  in  civilian  clothes 
tumbled  out  and  came  hurrying. 

Guerra  quickly  put  them  in  possession  of  all 
the  information  he  had. 

"  He  might  'a'  thrown  the  knife  over  one  of 
these  walls,"  one  of  the  detectives  said.  "  You 
better  take  that  end,  Morgan.  Search  all  the 
yards  along  both  sides  of  the  alley.  It's  a  pretty 
blind  hunt  without  the  knife."  He  turned 
to  Napier,  half  menacingly.  "  You  don't  hap- 


48  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

pen   to   have   a   knife   anywhere   on   you,    do 
you? " 

"  Nothing  bigger  than  a  pocket  knife,"  Napier 
smiled.  He  had  met  many  detectives,  and  knew 
they  could  usually  be  depended  upon  to  run  true 
to  form.  These  did  not  suspect  him  of  really  be 
ing  concerned  in  this  crime  any  more  than  the  po 
licemen  did ;  the  manner  of  all  of  them  clearly  pro 
claimed  it.  But  he  did  not  expect  police  detective 
methods  to  be  substantially  different  in  San  An 
tonio  from  what  they  are  in  New  York  or  Omaha 
or  Cincinnati  or  Portland,  and  he  was  more 
amused  than  surprised  at  the  next  development. 

The  detective  who  had  given  orders,  evidently 
in  charge  of  the  case,  flashed  a  sudden  light  in  his 
face  and  spoke  with  conviction: 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said.  "  I  know  you  perfectly 
well.  How  long  you  been  in  town?  " 

Napier  knew  that  not  only  had  the  detective 
probably  never  seen  him  before,  but  that  the  de 
tective  did  not  think  he  had.  He  was  merely 
making  the  usual  next  move  according  to  the  es 
tablished  rules  of  his  profession.  He  did  not 
think  Napier  was  guilty  of  murder,  or  of  having 
any  knowledge  of  the  murder,  but  proper  tactics 
might  determine  what  he  really  was  dodging  the 
law  for,  and  in  the  suspicious  lexicon  of  the  de 
tective  business  every  man  in  the  wide,  wide 
world  is  guilty  of  something,  if  only  you  can  find 
out  what  it  is. 

'  Three  days,"  Napier  informed  him  cheer 
fully.     "  I  am  at  the  Bonham." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  49 

"  What  name  do  you  say?  " 

"  Napier.     Julian  Napier." 

"  That's  a  good  name,"  the  detective  com 
mented,  with  heavy  sarcasm.  "  Napier.  Sure. 
Well,  we'll  talk  to  you  a  little  later  and  see  why 
you  don't  want  to  tell  us  what  you  are  doing  so 
far  from  the  Hotel  Bonham  at  this  hour  of  the 
night."  He  turned  to  one  of  the  other  detec 
tives,  who  had  not  spoken.  "  Take  him  in  the 
car  down  to  headquarters  and  turn  him  over  to 
Burlen,"  he  ordered.  "  And  ask  the  captain  to 
have  anybody  picked  up  that  is  running  'round 
loose  and  can't  explain  what  he's  out  for,  and 
search  'em  for  knives.  Then  you  better  come 
back  here." 

"  An  officer  certainly  gets  help  quickly  when 
he  whistles  for  it  in  this  town,"  Napier  com 
mented  admiringly  to  his  guard,  as  they  took 
their  seats  in  the  tonneau  of  the  police  automobile, 
and  the  chauffeur  headed  it  toward  downtown. 

"  Yeah,"  the  other  agreed.  "  You  run  fast 
when  you  hear  a  whistle  here  on  the  West  Side. 
Things  can  get  to  going  mighty  quick  over  in  this 
part  of  town,  and  when  you  hear  a  whistle  you 
think  it  might  be  you  that  was  in  a  mess  and 
wanted  somebody  to  come  a-running — and  you 
arrive  pronto.  Say,  I'm  wise  to  what  you  was 
doing  over  here." 

"  Are  you? " 

"  Sure.  I  knew  the  minute  Smith  threw  that 
lamp  into  your  face.  Say,  friend.  Burlen — 
that's  the  chief  of  detectives,  you  know — is  more 


50  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

or  less  of  a  grouch.  Me,  I'm  a  good  fellow — and 
reasonable.  Tell  me  about  it  before  we  get  to 
the  station,  and  I'll  be  able  to  fix  it,  prob'ly." 

"  That's  mighty  good  of  you,"  Napier  declared 
warmly.  "  But  I'm  going  to  take  my  chance 
with  the  chief." 

"  And  I  certainly  had  my  work  cut  out  for  me 
to  make  Mr.  Burlen  shoo  the  other  fellow  out  of 
the  room  and  let  me  speak  to  him  alone,"  he  told 
Collector  Lamb  in  the  Federal  Building  at  nine 
the  next  forenoon.  "  He  wanted  a  witness  to 
whatever  slips  I  made,  and  I  can't  be  sure,  of 
course,  that  there  wasn't  one  hidden,  at  that. 
But  I  didn't  have  to  tell  my  affairs  to  the  entire 
police  force.  You  can  usually  trust  a  chief  of 
police  or  the  chief  of  detectives,  but  letting  sub 
ordinates  know  your  business  is  always  risky. 
With  the  best  intentions,  some  of  them  will  make 
loose  conversation.  Well,  as  soon  as  we  were 
alone,  I  showed  him  my  badge,  told  him  I  was 
here  on  special  smuggling  work,  and  that  was  all 
there  was  to  it.  He  was  genial — and  quite  dis 
appointed." 

"  Naturally." 

"  I  didn't  tell  him  I  was  following  Puenta.  I 
just  said  I  was  making  some  investigations  over 
in  that  section.  I  didn't  see  that  it  would  help 
them  any.  And  I  didn't  think  it  advisable  to  say 
anything  about  the  slip  of  paper  I  took  out  of  his 
hand.  I  hate  to  hold  out  evidence  on  the  police, 
but  if  we  can't  get  somewhere  following  up  that 
paper  I'm  pretty  sure  they  couldn't,  and  they 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  51 

would  be  practically  certain  to  start  asking  ques 
tions  of  Chinamen — and  then  the  fat  would  be  in 
the  fire." 

A  telegram  was  handed  to  the  collector. 
"  This  is  for  you,"  he  told  Napier,  and  passed  it 
over. 

"  Let's  see  the  code  book.  It  is  a  reply,  I  im 
agine,  to  a  wire  I  sent  Washington  as  soon  as  I 
got  back  to  the  hotel  from  the  police  station,  ask 
ing  for  all  the  information  they  could  dig  up 
about  an  American  officer  named  Glenn,  located 
in  China  at  the  time  I  met  the  young  lady  who 
bowed  to  me.  I'd  like  to  be  forearmed  with  all 
the  facts  I  can  get  about  him  before  I  go  out  to 
look  her  up." 

While  the  collector  attended  to  routine  mat 
ters,  Napier  worked  out  the  cipher. 

"  Here  it  is,"  he  said,  after  awhile,  looking  up 
from  his  labors.  He  read  aloud  his  translation 
of  the  code: 

The  only  American  officer  named  Glenn 
in  China  at  the  time  you  name  was  Captain 
George  Walton  Glenn.  He  was  on  an  ex 
tended  furlough  from  Philippine  duty. 
Records  show  he  resigned  from  service  two 
years  later,  at  age  of  forty-six.  Reason 
given:  Failing  health.  There  seems  to  have 
been  a  vague  but  quite  general  impression 
that  something  was  behind  the  resignation 
which  his  superiors  preferred  to  overlook, 
but  his  record  is  officially  clean.  He  re 
turned  to  America  and  has  since  resided  in 


52  THE  CHINESE  LABEL! 

several  cities.  Most  recent  address:  Cleve 
land.  Will  endeavor  to  secure  additional 
information  and  will  advise  you  promptly. 

"  It  gives  us  the  whole  of  his  name,  anyway," 
Napier  commented.  "  Now  we  want  to  see  if 
we  can  locate  the  gentleman  in  San  Antonio. 
I'll  tackle  the  hotels  first,  if  you  will  let  me  use 
the  'phone." 

"  One  of  the  fellows  out  in  the  other  room  can 
do  it  just  as  well  as  not,  unless  you  have  some 
reason  for  wanting  to  do  it  yourself,"  Lamb  of 
fered,  and  on  Napier's  agreement,  stepped  to  the 
door  and  opened  it.  "  Come  in  a  minute,  Powell, 
will  you  please?  We  want  to  locate  Captain 
George  Walton  Glenn,  formerly  of  the  United 
States  Army,  at  some  hotel.  See  if  you  can  do 
it,  will  you?  Without  giving  him  or  anybody 
else  any  idea  who  you  are." 

"  Want  to  talk  to  him  if  I  get  him?  " 

"  No,"  Napier  replied.  "  Give  him  some  kind 
of  explanation  about  his  being  the  wrong  Cap 
tain  Glenn.  All  I  want  is  to  learn  where  he  is 
living." 

Powell  withdrew  and  closed  the  door. 

"  You  were  speaking,  when  the  telegram 
came,"  Lamb  reminded  Napier,  "  of  the  torn 
slip  of  paper  you  found  in  Puenta's  hand." 

Napier  went  into  an  inner  pocket,  took  the 
fragment  from  a  small  card-case,  and  tossed  it  on 
the  table  before  the  collector.  "What  is  it?" 
he  asked. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  53 

"  Part  of  a  label  from  a  five-tad  opium  tin," 
answered  Lamb  without  hesitation. 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  thought  when  I  first 
saw  it.  When  Puenta  dropped  it  on  the  floor 
and  looked  scared  as  he  picked  it  up  again  and 
stuffed  it  away  out  of  sight,  I  had  no  ques 
tion  that  it  was  a  dope  label.  That  would 
have  explained  his  fright  perfectly.  But  it 
isn't." 

"  It  isn't!  "  Lamb  examined  the  paper  more 
carefully.  "  It  looks  like  one." 

"  The  paper  seems  to  be  the  same  quality  and 
color,  but  the  ideographs  on  an  opium  tin  label 
are  printed — on  a  printing  press.  These  look 
about  the  same,  at  first  glance,  but  they  are  done 
with  a  brush.  Besides,  I  never  saw  these  par 
ticular  characters  on  an  opium  tin." 

"  Do  you  read  Chinese?  " 

"A  little;  not  as  much  as  I  wish  I  did.  I 
speak  it  well  enough  to  make  myself  understood, 
although  not  to  pass  for  a  Chinaman;  there  are 
mighty  few  white  men  who  can  do  that.  I  have  a 
pretty  good  ideograph  chart  in  my  trunk,  though, 
to  help  me  out  in  a  case  like  this." 

He  leaned  over  and  pointed  to  the  two  char 
acters. 

"  This  first  word,  on  the  left,"  he  said,  "  is  pro 
nounced  *  tsai '  in  Mandarin  Chinese.  '  Tsai ' 
happens  to  be  a  word  that  has  quite  a  number  of 
meanings.  It  means  '  in,'  '  within  '  and  '  select 
able.'  It  is  also  quite  a  common  given  name  of 


a  man." 


54  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Cheerful  language,  where  one  word  means 
all  that,"  Lamb  remarked. 

"  Before  you  get  too  critical  of  it  on  that  ac 
count,"  grinned  Napier,  "  suppose  you  recall  a 
few  of  our  own  simple  little  words.  '  Bow/  for 
instance;  or  '  fast.' ' 

"  The  boat  cannot  go  fast  because  it  has  been 
made  fast,  so  we  will  take  a  day  off  and  fast," 
commented  the  collector  appreciatively.  "All 
right;  I'd  buy,  if  there  were  any  place.  Eng 
lish  is  a  grand  old  tongue.  And  the  other 
word? " 

A  tap  at  the  door  was  followed  by  the  en 
trance  of  Agent  Powell.  "  I  got  him,"  he  said. 
"  He  is  at  the  Edgemont.  Fourth  place  I 
called." 

"  No  doubt  about  his  being  the  right  man?  " 

"  They  put  him  on  the  wire.  We  had  a  little 
cross-purpose  conversation,  during  which  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  had  the  talk  he  was  going  to  have 
with  Minihan,  and  told  him  I  was  his  friend 
Freeman.  Then  I  suggested  that  his  voice  didn't 
sound  right  and  asked  if  he  was  Captain  Walter 
Glynn  of  Laredo,  and  he  said  he  was  George 
Walton  Glenn.  So  I  cussed  somebody — indefi 
nite — for  getting  me  the  wrong  person,  apolo 
gized  fluently,  and  hung  up." 

"  Where  is  the  Edgemont?  "  Napier  asked. 

"  About  half  a  mile  from  here,  just  outside  the 
business  section.  A  family  hotel." 

"  Respectable?  " 

"  I  have  never  heard  otherwise." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  55 

"  And  comparatively  inexpensive,"  Lamb 
added.  "  No  transients,  I  believe,  for  less  than 
a  week." 

Napier  thanked  Powell,  who  went  out.  "  Is 
the  Edgemont  at  all  in  the  same  general  direction 
from  the  center  as  the  Mexican  quarter? "  he 
asked. 

"  No.     In  almost  the  opposite  direction." 

"  It  is  pretty  evident,  then,  that  if  my  message 
of  last  evening  came  from  Miss  Glenn,  she  wasn't 
at  her  hotel,  but  that  doesn't  prove  she  didn't 
send  it  from  somewhere  else,  of  course.  How 
ever,  guessing  doesn't  get  us  anywhere.  One  of 
two  women  sent  me  that  message,  and  there  is  no 
use  trying  to  figure  out  which  it  was  without  any 
thing  definite  to  go  on.  I've  got  to  find  them 
both." 

"  The  fact  that  one  of  them  knows  Kalat " 

Napier  nodded.  "  Yes.  It  makes  the  Miss 
Glenn  lead  the  one  to  follow  up  as  quickly  as  pos 
sible,  not  neglecting,  in  the  meantime,  to  keep  my 
eyes  open  for  Madame  Frezzi."  He  considered 
briefly.  "  Do  you  know,"  he  smiled,  "  I'm  be 
ginning  to  find  it  too  crowded  at  the  Bonham.  I 
wouldn't  be  surprised,  before  I  leave  town,  if  I 
moved  from  there — provided  I  like  the  looks  of 
the  Edgemont  and  they  have  any  vacant  rooms. 
I'm  going  over  and  see  the  place  with  that  to  talk 
about,  anyway." 

He  became  more  serious:  "  It  might  prove  in 
teresting  to  meet  this  ex-captain.  Retired  from 
the  army  at  forty-six  for  ill  health — and  still  alive 


56  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

and  well,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  if  he  was  the 
straight-shouldered  old  party  who  was  in  the  au 
tomobile  with  the  young  lady,  last  evening. 
Didn't  get  back  into  the  service  during  the  late 
unpleasantness.  Spent  an  extended  furlough  in 
China  in  preference  to  coming  home  to  the 
States.  With  this  Chinese  angle  to  our  problem, 
he  is  worth  looking  over." 

The  collector  went  back  to  the  fragment  of 
orange  paper  that  lay  on  the  desk  between  them. 

"  What  is  this  other  word?  "  he  asked. 
'  It  means  '  lily.'  " 

'  Then  the  two,  together,  would  mean  '  in  a 
lily/  '  within  a  lily/  or  '  a  selectable  lily  '?  " 

"  No,  because  this  is  the  very  bottom  of  the 
slip,  and  the  words  that  preceded  each  of  these 
are  missing.  There  were  characters,  evidently, 
that  came  before  the  word  *  tsai '  and  then,  read 
ing  from  the  top  of  the  next  column,  other  words 
before  you  get  to  the  *  lily.'  No,  the  best  we 
can  be  sure  of  is  that  '  lily  '  was  the  last  word  on 
the  paper,  and  that  somewhere  back  of  it — about 
three  or  four  words  back,  I  should  say  from  the 
size  of  the  slip  as  it  looked  when  it  fell  out  of 
Puenta's  pocket — was  '  in,'  '  within,'  or  '  select 
able.'  " 

" '  Selectable '  is  an  elastic  word,"  Lamb 
mused.  "  It  could  have  a  lot  of  synonyms, 
I  should  think."  He  looked  up  suddenly. 
"  Would  it  call  for  too  much  stretch  of  the  im 
agination  to  translate  '  tsai '  as  '  gorgeous  '  ? 
Couldn't  this  refer  to  The  Gorgeous  Lily?  " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  57 

"  Remembering  what  Puenta  said  about  a  dia 
mond  in  a  box,"  Napier  agreed,  "  the  idea  cer 
tainly  opens  up  some  mighty  interesting  possi 
bilities/' 


CHAPTER  Y 

NAPIER  returned  the  orange  slip  to  his  pocket. 
"  Have  you  somebody  here  in  your  outfit  who 
would  be  able  to  get  at  this  Officer  Guerra?  "  he 
asked. 

"  I  think  so.  We  get  inside  police  stuff  when 
it  is  necessary  without  going  to  the  department 
officials." 

"  He  said  Puenta  was  friendly  with  some  of 
the  Chinese  in  the  section  back  of  where  he  was 
killed.  We  need  to  find  out  who  they  are. 
What  Chinese  resorts  he  hung  out  at,  if  any. 
What  Chinese  he  had  ever  been  seen  with. 
Guerra  or  some  other  policeman  in  that  section 
would  know,  but  it  wouldn't  do  for  me  to  show 
any  interest." 

"  I'll  have  one  of  the  men  tackle  it  right  away." 

"  And  we  also  ought  to  keep  track  of  what 
progress  the  police  make,  if  any." 

"  I'll  get  some  lines  out.  What  do  you  make 
out  of  that  dying  talk  of  Puenta's?  Was  he 
killed  for  stealing  that  paper,  or  for  going  to  you 
with  his  message?  " 

"  It  could  have  been  either,  from  the  way  he 
said  it,  and  I  was  entirely  unable  to  get  him  to 
answer  a  question." 

"  Or  it  could  have  been  both." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  59 

"  Yes,  with  the  remote  possibility  that  he  didn't 
know,  but  was  merely  babbling  his  suspicions  in 
a  sort  of  delirium." 

"  But  the  murderer  was  after  his  paper." 

"  He  thought  so — and  I  think  so,  too.  But 
when  we  remember  that  the  slip  was  in  the  same 
pocket  with  his  money,  we  have  to  admit  a  possi 
bility  that  the  man  who  killed  him  went  through 
him  for  cash,  that  he  got  the  label  by  accident 
when  he  found  the  roll,  and  that  Puenta,  snatch 
ing  at  it  and  recovering  it,  as  he  supposed — he 
never  knew  he  only  got  a  piece  of  it,  poor 
devil! — could  only  think  of  that.  I  don't  be 
lieve  this  is  the  true  explanation,  you  under 
stand;  I  am  merely  trying  to  consider  all  the 
possibilities." 

"  There  is  this  to  be  said  for  the  idea  of  a  sim 
ple  motive — robbery,  or  revenge  over  some  old 
feud,  or  something  like  that,"  Lamb  said.  "  If 
the  murderer  were  after  that  label,  why  did  he 
leave  part  of  it  in  Puenta's  hand?  Why  didn't 
he  make  sure  he  had  it  all? " 

"  Perhaps  because  he  thought  he  did  have  it 
all.  Perhaps  because  he  heard  me  coming  and 
didn't  have  another  second  of  time.  I  must  have 
been  getting  mighty  close  when  he  left  Puenta. 
I  moved  into  the  alley  slowly,  and  his  footsteps 
were  plainly  to  be  heard  at  the  other  end.  I  take 
it  he  must  have  had  to  work  fast — and  that  he 
was  probably  surprised  when  Puenta  grabbed  for 
the  paper  and  didn't  have  time  to  do  much  think 
ing." 


60  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Surprised? " 

"  The  Mexican  was  stabbed  in  the  back — 
struck  from  behind,  without  any  warning,  by 
some  one  who  was  probably  lurking  in  the  shadow 
of  a  doorway  in  the  wall  on  the  left.  I  observed 
there  is  such  a  door,  right  beside  where  the  body 
lay.  He  fell  forward  on  his  face.  The  mur 
derer,  wasting  not  a  second — perhaps  he  had  a 
little  lamp — turned  him  over  and  searched  for 
whatever  he  wanted  to  find.  The  money  or  the 
label.  He  got  both.  Puenta  realized  what  was 
happening  and  clutched  for  the  paper.  He  got 
a  corner  of  it,  turned  over,  struggled  to  his  knees, 
and  fell  forward  again.  Something — the  sound 
of  my  footsteps,  in  all  probability — sent  the  killer 
running  toward  the  other  end  of  the  alley.  It 
was  the  second  thing  that  had  disturbed  his  plans, 
the  first  being  Puenta's  surprising  grab  for  the 
paper  after  the  other  thought  he  was  dead." 

Both  men  were  silent  for  a  moment,  turning 
the  thing  over  in  their  minds.  Then  Napier 
said: 

"  I  should  like  to  know  who,  if  anybody,  was 
watching  Puenta  down  there  in  the  Bonham  when 
the  slip  fell  to  the  floor." 

"  Could  any  one  who  was  there  have  got  to  the 
place  where  the  murder  happened  before  you 
did?  " 

"  Easily,  by  using  an  automobile.  But  I  don't 
see  how  any  such  person  could  have  known  ex 
actly  where  Puenta  was  going,  unless  he  also 
knew  about  the  message  from  the  smiling  lady 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  61 

and  where  the  Mexican  was  planning  to  take  me. 
Even  then,  how  could  he  have  known  the  exact 
route?" 

"  That  alley  leads  directly  toward  the  Chinese 
quarter,  only  two  or  three  blocks  away." 

"  Yes;  I  have  been  studying  a  map.  But  I 
can't  see,  if  Puenta  was  bound  for  that  quarter, 
why  he  should  have  selected  that  narrow,  dark 
and  dangerous  alley,  when  he  could  have  reached 
any  part  of  the  Chinese  section  by  wider  and 
safer  streets.  It  almost  seems  as  if  his  destina 
tion  could  not  have  been  far  from  the  alley  itself." 
He  sighed.  "  Well,  I  don't  know  and  I  won't 
find  out  by  sitting  here  theorizing.  I  have  two 
immediate  jobs  cut  out  for  me.  Find  Miss 
Glenn  and  ascertain,  if  I  can,  whether  she  sent 
for  me  last  night,  and  get  a  line  on  young  Senor 
Puenta's  Chinese  friends.  I'll  tackle  the  first, 
and  you,  if  you  will  be  so  good,  can  get  somebody 
hustling  out  to  get  a  line  on  the  second." 

"  I'll  have  somebody  whom  he  won't  suspect 
gossiping  with  Officer  Guerra  before  he  goes  on 
duty  again  to-night." 

"  I'll  'phone  you  from  time  to  time;  it  probably 
won't  be  much  use  trying  to  get  me  but  if  any 
thing  turns  up  that  needs  me  in  a  hurry  there 
might  be  a  chance  of  catching  me  at  the  Bonham. 
The  Edgemont,  you  say,  is " 

Lamb  directed  him. 

As  Napier  turned  into  the  modest  entrance  of 
the  Hotel  Edgemont,  the  gods  of  chance  most 
surprisingly  favored  him.  He  met  Miss  Glenn, 


62  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

dressed  for  the  street,  just  coming  through  the 
door. 

'  This  is  fortunate,"  he  exclaimed,  with  con 
ventional  politeness,  as  she  murmured  his  name 
and  gave  him  her  hand.  "  I  have  wondered  ever 
since  I  saw  you  last  evening  if  I  would  be  so 
lucky." 

"  I  wasn't  sure  you  recognized  me,"  she  smiled. 

"  I  almost  didn't.  I'm  afraid  I  must  have 
stared  like  a  gawk.  It  isn't  really  so  many  years 
since  I  saw  you,  but  you  don't  look  exactly  as  you 
did  then,  you  know."  His  next  sentence  was 
not  all  empty  compliment:  '  Those  years  have 
been  very  kind  to  you,  Miss  Glenn.  If  you  still 
are  Miss  Glenn." 

"  I  am."  She  laughed  and  looked  frankly 
into  his  eyes ;  his  thought  at  the  moment  was  that 
he  had  shown  very  little  sense  there  on  the  Bub 
bling  Well  Club  veranda  in  being  merely  per 
functorily  polite  to  a  girl  who  was  going  to  turn 
out  to  be  as  attractive  as  this  one.  '  Those  years 
haven't  done  a  single  thing  to  you,  that  I  can 
see,"  she  said.  "  You  look  exactly  as  you  did 
then." 

"  I  pull  out  the  white  hairs  at  the  temples,"  he 
assured  her.  "  With  pincers.  It  hurts,  but 
once  in  a  while,  when  I  meet  young  women  who 
speak  kindly,  I  realize  it  is  worth  the  pain." 

:<  Do  you  live  here  in  San  Antonio?  " 

"  No.  I'm  a  poor  tourist,  with  no  place  to  lay 
his  head.  At  least,  no  place  to  lay  his  head  where 
the  roar  and  riot  of  this  celebrating  town  doesn't 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  63 

get  into  his  ears."  He  looked  into  the  shade 
of  the  small  Edgemont  lobby.  "  That  explains 
my  errand  here.  A  friend  told  me  they  sell  a 
very  excellent  variety  of  night's  rest  at  this 
place." 

"  We  live  here,"  she  said.    "  My  father  and  I." 

"  As  I  recollect  it,  you  mentioned  that  day  we 

met — or  Mrs.  Morey  did — that  he  was  an  army 


man." 


'Yes.  He  is  retired.  We  find  the  Edge 
mont  very  comfortable  and  quiet.  I  don't  know 
what  luck  you  will  have;  it  is  pretty  well  filled  up 
now,  I  think." 

"  If  I  get  in,  perhaps  I  may  hope  to  see  some 
thing  of  you.  We  could  probably  find  something 
to  talk  about;  one  doesn't  meet  old  acquaint 
ances  every  day  whose  experiences  include  the 
East.  Seeing  you  last  night  sent  my  thoughts 
flying  back  there." 

"  One  never  completely  gets  over  the  East," 
she  said.  '  I  hope  we  do  get  a  chance  to  talk 
about  it."  He  was  a  little  puzzled  at  her  man 
ner.  It  was  as  though  she  really  wanted  to  see 
him  again, — and  didn't.  She  shifted  the  subject 
deftly  and  spoke  of  the  carnival  and  of  the  parade 
that  was  scheduled  for  that  afternoon,  and  he 
gathered  she  was  on  her  way  to  have  luncheon 
with  some  one  and  then  see  the  procession  from  a 
vantage  point.  A  Mrs.  Jeffries,  she  said,  whom 
she  had  known  in  Ohio.  "  Our  home,  you  know, 
is  in  Cleveland,"  she  added.  '  We  are  also  tour* 
ists,  in  a  way.  Do  you  ever  get  to  Cleveland?  " 


64  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Not  often,"  he  told  her.  "  My  home  is  in 
New  York." 

"  Are  you  in  the  same  business  as  when  you 
were  in  Shanghai? " 

It  had  been  generally  supposed,  when  he  was 
in  China,  that  he  had  some  connection  with  an 
importing  concern,  and  for  the  past  seven  years 
he  actually  had  owned  a  small  interest  in  a  New 
York  importing  house,  with  his  name  on  the  door 
and  no  duties;  a  logical  and  satisfying  explana 
tion  of  many  of  his  activities  that  had  to  do  with 
foreign  places  and  peoples.  It  was  possible  Mrs. 
Morey  had  told  the  girl,  that  day  at  the  tea  table, 
that  he  was  with  a  firm  of  importers,  and  that  she 
had  remembered  it.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mes 
sage  last  night  had  said  the  sender  of  it  "  could 
help  him  in  his  business,"  which  would  hardly 
mean  importing.  Was  there  anything  signifi 
cant  in  this  question? 

"  Yes,"  he  replied. 

She  did  not  follow  this  up  at  all.  Her  next 
remark  was  inconsequential.  They  spoke  for  a 
moment  or  so  of  quite  unimportant  things — the 
city,  the  climate,  the  crowds,  the  odds  and  ends  of 
subjects  that  comprise  small  talk  for  those  who 
have  no  closer  subjects  in  common.  She  showed 
no  impatience  at  standing  there,  but  he  thought 
she  would  have  been  too  well-bred  to  do  so,  even 
had  she  desired  to  get  away.  He  ought  not  to 
hold  her,  yet  he  had  made  no  headway  regarding 
his  mysterious  message.  He  determined  to  refer 
once  more  to  the  previous  evening,  to  give  her 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL;  65 

another  opening  if  she  wanted  to  take  advantage 
of  it. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  what  pleasure  it  has  given  me 
to  see  you  again,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  From  the 
moment  we  met,  last  night,  I  hoped  I  would  run 
into  you  somewhere.  All  the  rest  of  the  evening 
— I  was  going  nowhere  in  particular;  just  watch 
ing  the  crowds — I  kept  my  eyes  open  for  you, 
hoping  our  autos  would  pass.  But  it  was  like 
searching  for  the  needle  in  the  haystack." 

"  Particularly  as  the  haystack  did  not  have  the 
needle  in  it  ten  minutes  after  we  saw  you,"  she 
laughed.  "  We  were  on  our  way  home  then. 
My  father  was  tired  of  the  noise  and  confusion, 
and  we  didn't  wait  long  after  the  parade." 

"  I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  meet 
ing  your  father." 

For  the  first  time  the  girl  did  not  look  frankly 
into  his  eyes,  and  there  was  a  peculiar  and  quite 
unexplainable  note  of  embarrassment  in  her 
voice. 

"  Father  does  not  go  out  much,"  she  said.  "  He 
meets  very  few  people.  He — he  is  not  at  all 
well." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  Napier  told  her,  with  the  right 
shade  of  regret.  "  It  has  been  mighty  good  of 
you  to  stand  and  talk  to  me  so  long.  I  am  afraid 
I  have  imposed  on  your  good  nature." 

"  It  has  been  nice  to  see  you,"  she  said,  with 
what  he  thought  was  a  little  more  than  per 
functory  politeness.  "  Let  us  hope  we  shall  meet 
again." 


66  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

She  smiled  cordially  and  was  gone.  Three 
minutes  later  he  learned  that  there  were  no  suites 
or  single  rooms  to  be  had  at  the  Edgemont,  either 
with  or  without  baths,  and  that  there  wasn't  the 
slightest  chance  there  would  be  any  until  after  the 
Fiesta. 

He  went  over  to  the  Bonham  and  ordered 
lunch  in  a  dining-room  that  opened  out  of  the 
main  lobby. 

He  felt  almost  certain,  now,  that  his  message 
from  the  lady  who  smiled  had  not  been  sent  by 
Ruth  Glenn;  it  was  highly  improbable  that  she 
would  not  have  mentioned  it.  This  belief,  even 
if  it  were  proven  true,  did  not  eliminate  her  from 
his  case,  however;  he  had  been  anxious  to  find  her 
before  ever  he  received  a  message.  He  had  been 
tempted,  during  their  conversation,  to  mention 
Kalat  Pasha  in  some  indirect  way,  watching  her 
face  as  she  replied,  but  instantly  dismissed  the 
idea  as  foolish.  At  best,  he  could  only  learn  that 
Kalat  was  in  San  Antonio  and  that  she  knew  it, 
and  any  mention  of  the  Turk,  if  her  presence  here 
had  anything  to  do  with  his,  would  only  serve  to 
put  Kalat  on  his  guard.  He  had  to  remember, 
also,  that  Kalat,  so  far  as  he  was  aware,  did  not 
know  him  at  all,  and  his  attitude  ought  to  be,  if 
he  and  the  Turk  met,  that  neither  did  he  know 
Kalat. 

Harking  back  to  their  conversation,  the  whole 
idea  that  the  girl  could  have  anything  whatever 
to  do  with  a  smuggling  plot  seemed  almost  im 
possible.  Well-bred,  well-groomed,  self-reliant 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL1  67 

American  girls  do  not  get  themselves  mixed  up 
with  Turks,  Mexicans  and  Chinese  in  schemes 
to He  pulled  himself  up  short  on  this  argu 
ment.  Many  most  excellent  people  do  not  hold 
smuggling  to  be  a  serious  crime,  and  he  had  to 
admit  that  his  experiences  in  the  department  did 
not  justify  him  in  dismissing  anybody  as  being 
outside  the  possibilities  of  participation  in  it. 
He  himself  could  recall  more  than  one  well-bred, 

well-groomed,  self-reliant  young  American 

"  But  not  with  eyes  like  that,"  he  argued  to  him 
self.  "  Not  with  frank,  honest  brown  eyes  like 
that." 

Brown,  with  little  glints  in  them;  eyes  that 
laughed  easily,  looked  as  if  they  could  be  very 
sympathetic,  and  met  one's  gaze  frankly  and 
squarely — except  when  one  discussed  father. 
Perhaps  when  one  discussed  some  other  things, 
too;  how  did  he  know?  Would  they  have  been 
frank  and  straightforward  if  he  had  mentioned 
Kalat  Pasha? 

He  thought  he  was  trying  to  analyze  the  girl 
in  his  most  professional  manner.  He  would  have 
contended,  and  made  it  a  matter  of  serious  debate 
with  any  one  who  differed,  that  the  personal 
equation  was  not  entering  into  his  thoughts  at 
all.  But  his  conclusion  was,  notwithstanding 
that  unexplained  embarrassment  when  her  father 
came  into  their  conversation,  that  she  wasn't  that 
sort  of  girl.  He  hoped  she  would  never  find  out 
that  he  had  suspected  she  might  have  something 
to  do  with  a  gang  of  smugglers;  she  wouldn't  be 


68  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

able  to  understand  it.  Rather  foolish  to  hope 
that,  when  perhaps  he  would  never  see  her  again. 
But  he  must  see  her  again.  Purely  as  a  matter 
of  business,  of  course.  He  couldn't  let  any  lead 
in  the  case  go  unexplored,  however  improbable  it 
might  be.  He  wondered  how  soon. 

A  man  who  had  been  eating  at  a  distant  table 
passed  out  of  the  dining-room.  At  the  entrance, 
stopping  to  get  his  hat,  his  eyes  roamed  over  the 
room  and  rested  upon  Napier,  who  noticed  him 
standing  there  but  did  not  give  him  a  second 
thought.  He  disappeared,  and  the  treasury 
agent  finished  his  lunch  and  sauntered  out  into 
the  lobby. 

The  man  stood  at  the  clerk's  desk,  and,  as 
Napier  came  out  through  the  dining-room  door 
way,  spoke  a  word  to  the  clerk,  who  looked 
sharply  at  Napier  and  replied  briefly,  whereupon 
the  man  spoke  again  and  moved  away  from  the 
desk.  It  was  perfectly  obvious  to  Napier,  who 
had  seen  the  interchange  of  sentences,  that  the 
man  had  asked  the  clerk  who  he  was. 

He  remembered,  then,  that  the  questioner  had 
stood  looking  at  him  in  the  dining-room.  He 
also  recalled,  vaguely,  that  he  had  seen  the  man 
before  during  his  four  days  at  the  hotel.  He 
wondered  if  it  could  have  been  on  the  previous 
evening. 

He  devoted  a  minute  to  the  cutting  and  light 
ing  of  a  cigar.  Then  he  moved  across  the  lobby 
to  the  news  stand,  selected  a  magazine,  and 
strolled  toward  the  elevator.  Once  in  his  room* 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  69 

he  tossed  the  magazine  on  a  table  and  called  the 
manager  of  the  hotel  on  the  telephone.  With 
some  difficulty  he  succeeded  in  getting  that  busy 
gentleman  to  come  to  the  room  at  once. 

He  introduced  himself,  when  the  manager  ar 
rived,  in  his  true  capacity,  and  the  news  was  re 
ceived  with  entire  absence  of  enthusiasm.  A 
hotel  manager  may  spend  tens  of  thousands  of 
dollars  a  year  for  publicity,  but  he  prefers  to 
choose  its  character;  that  sort  of  prominence 
which  follows  police  and  secret  service  activities 
he  is  quite  willing  to  do  without. 

"  In  the  first  place,  sir,  I  want  to  make  a  bar 
gain  with  you,"  Napier  said.  "  You  give  me  a 
little  assistance  and  consider  this  whole  meeting 
as  in  confidence,  promising  to  forget,  for  all  prac 
tical  purposes,  who  I  am,  and  I  will  assure 
you  that,  if  I  can  help  it,  there  will  be  nothing 
made  public  that  can  annoy  your  house  or  its 
guests." 

The  hotel  manager  brightened.  "  Of  course 
I  will  do  anything  I  can,"  he  said.  "As  to  keep 
ing  your  identity  a  secret,  even  if  it  wasn't  a  duty 
I  owe  the  government,  it  is  part  of  my  business 
not  to  tell  everything  I  know." 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  Napier  assured  him,  "  I 
haven't  any  reason  to  think  anything  is  likely  to 
happen  that  will  affect  your  place  at  all.  But 
certain  angles  of  a  certain  case — you  had  rather 
not  know  any  more  about  it,  I  am  sure,  even  if 
it  were  proper  for  me  to  tell  you,  which  it  isn't — 
seem  to  touch  one  or  two  people  who  live  here. 


70  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Primarily,  I  want  some  information  regarding  a 
man  who  is  in  the  lobby  at  this  minute;  at  least 
he  was  when  I  came  up,  just  now.  As  I  came 
out  of  the  dining-room,  he  asked  the  clerk  at  the 
desk  who  I  was.  The  solemn-looking  clerk  with 
the  round  spectacles.  That  is,  I  think  he  did; 
one  of  the  things  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  do  is 
to  verify  that.  He  is  a  man  of  fifty,  perhaps, 
apparently  a  Mexican.  Light  complexion,  gray, 
cropped  mustache,  thick  gray  hair.  Deep  pock- 
marks  down  both  sides  of  his  nose." 

The  manager  nodded.  "  Mr.  Villabosa,"  he 
said.  "  Salvador  Villabosa.  Did  you  say  you 
were  with  the  Department  of  Justice?  " 

*  Treasury  Department." 

"  Because  I  wouldn't  have  been  surprised  if 
you  had  been  Department  of  Justice, — these 
Mexican  refugees  are  all  the  time  running  up 
against  that  outfit, — but  I  am  surprised  that  he 
has  been  doing  anything  to  tangle  himself  up 
with  your  end  of  the  government." 

"  Don't  misunderstand  me;  I  don't  know  that 
he  has.  Who  is  he,  please,  and  how  long  has  he 
been  at  the  Bonham?  " 

"  More  than  two  months,  this  time,"  tHe  man 
ager  said.  "And  he  has  been  here  before.  A 

number  of  times.  As  to  wlio  he  is A 

refugee.  That  is  about  all  I  can  tell  you.  Not 
an  extremely  rich  man,  I  should  say,  but  fairly 
well-to-do.  Well-to-do  enough  to  live  here  and 
always  pay  his  bill  on  time,  anyway." 

"  You  use  the  word  *  refugee '  to  mean  any 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  71 

Mexican  who  has  been  forced  to  leave  Mexico 
since  the  troubles  began  six  or  seven  years  ago, 
don't  you?" 

"  That  is  the  usual  meaning  in  San  Antonio, 
yes.  This  man  began  to  come  here  some  time 
ago- — several  years,  I  guess.  He  has  lived  here 
quite  a  bit,  off  and  on." 

"  From  what  part  of  Mexico?  " 

The  manager  shrugged.  "  I  haven't  the  slight 
est  idea.  I  don't  even  know  that  he  is  a  refugee. 
He  merely  acts  like  one.  We  have  always  taken 
it  for  granted." 

"Acts  like  one?     How?" 

"  He  isn't  in  business  in  this  city,  so  far  as  I 
know.  He  does  not  seem  to  have  any  particular 
means  of  support.  He  hangs  around  the  hotel, 
meets  other  Mexicans  from  time  to  time,  just 
seems  to  be  waiting  for  something  to  turn  up. 
Those  are  the  usual  refugee  symptoms." 

"  Thank  you,"  Napier  said.  "  Now,  I  would 
like  you  to  make  some  guarded  inquiries  and  let 
me  know,  if  you  will,  what  you  find  out.  Are 
the  clerks  who  were  in  charge  at  the  desk  from, 
say,  eleven  o'clock  to  a  little  past  midnight,  last 
night,  out  of  bed  yet?" 

"  Yes.  There  is  a  shift  of  clerks  at  midnight, 
when  two  go  off  duty  and  one  comes  on,  and 
ordinarily  the  after-midnight  man  wouldn't  be 
where  he  could  be  got  at  now,  but  on  account  of 
the  rush  of  business  we  are  all  working  overtime 
this  week.  I  can  find  all  three." 

"  Good.     Will  you  ask  them  if  they  know 


72  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

whether  this  man  Villabosa  was  in  the  lobby  of 
the  hotel  last  night  at  or  soon  after  eleven?  And, 
if  it  is  possible  for  them  to  say,  how  long  he  was 
there?  " 

The  manager  shook  his  head.  "  Even  if  he 
were  there  all  the  evening,  it  would  be  mighty 
unlikely  they  would  remember  it,"  he  doubted. 
"  Our  lobby  was  a  pretty  crowded  place,  last 
night." 

"  I  know  it;  I  was  there.  But  it  is  quite  im 
portant."  The  manager  turned  to  go.  "And 
make  sure,  please,  what  Villabosa  asked  the 
round-spectacled  clerk  as  I  came  out  of  the  din 
ing-room." 

The  manager  was  back  in  twenty  minutes. 

"  You  were  right  about  his  talk  with  the  clerk," 
he  said,  at  once.  '  Villabosa  said  your  face  was 
familiar  and  asked  him  your  name.  When  the 
clerk  gave  it,  Villabosa  said  he  guessed  you  must 
look  like  somebody  else.  And  as  to  last  night, 
it's  a  funny  thing,  but  for  all  the  mob  there  was 
swarming  through  that  lobby,  two  of  those  clerks 
are  so  sure  Villabosa  was  here  that  they  are  will 
ing  to  swear  to  it." 

"At  what  hour?  And  how  do  they  place 
it?" 

"  One  of  them  places  it  by  a  matter  that  hap 
pens  to  concern  you.  Did  a  young  man,  probably 
a  Mexican,  find  you  about  half -past  eleven?  " 

"  Yes.     When  I  came  in  after  the  parade." 

"  He  had  asked  the  clerk  if  you  were  stopping 
here,  and  the  clerk  misunderstood  him  and 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  73 

thought  he  wanted  to  know  if  you  were  in  the 
house,  so  he  turned  to  the  telephone  switchboard 
and  said,  '  See  if  Mr.  Napier  is  in  Room  697.' 
The  girl  reported  you  were  not,  and  the  young 
Mexican  said  he  would  wait  and  stayed  right 
there,  close  to  the  desk.  The  clerk  continued  to 
notice  him,  because  he  didn't  seem  to  want  to 
move,  and  he  was  more  or  less  under  the  guests' 
feet.  The  whole  matter  is  one  easily  remem 
bered,  because  my  assistant  manager  was  in  hear 
ing,  and  he  called  the  clerk  down,  afterward,  for 
shouting  your  room  number  that  way.  We  are 
careful  who  we  give  the  numbers  of  guests'  rooms 
to,  of  course." 

"  What  did  Villabosa  have  to  do  with  this?  " 
"  It  seems  he  was  standing  at  the  desk  when 
the  young  Mexican  came  up,  and  the  clerk 
noticed  his  sort  of  peculiar  manner.  He  turned 
his  back  very  squarely  to  the  young  man  and 
moved  off  in  such  a  way  that  the  clerk  thought 
he  didn't  want  the  chap  who  was  looking  for  you 
to  see  him.  The  clerk's  impression  at  the  mo 
ment  was  that  Villabosa  knew  the  fellow  and  was 
dodging  a  touch,  or  something  like  that." 
"And  afterward?  After  I  had  come?  " 
"  It  was  really  an  odd  thing  about  that.  Out 
of  all  the  guests  in  this  house,  I  don't  suppose 
those  fellows  could  tell  you  what  a  single  other 
man  did  between  half-past  eleven  and  one  o'clock, 
but  three  men  are  perfectly  positive  about  Villa 
bosa.  One  of  the  clerks  who  went  off  at  mid 
night,  the  one  who  came  on  at  midnight  and  the 


74  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

night  cashier — every  one  of  them  happens  to 
have  talked  with  him  about  something  or  other 
that  impressed  the  conversation  on  his  mind,  and 
they  are  sure  he  was  in  the  lobby  all  the  time. 
The  last  time  anybody  saw  him  was  at  just  six 
minutes  to  one,  and  the  clerk  remembers  it  be 
cause  Villabosa  was  comparing  his  watch  with 
our  clock  and  argued  that  we  were  a  minute 
wrong.  The  clerks  think  he  disappeared  after 
that.  He  probably  went  to  his  room." 


CHAPTER  VI 

"  I'M  afraid  I  can't  give  you  much  informa 
tion.  Salvador  Villabosa  is  more  or  less  of  a 
mystery." 

The  speaker  was  an  agent  of  the  Department 
of  Justice,  whose  duties  for  several  years  had 
made  him  familiar  with  refugee  Mexicans,  espe 
cially  if  at  any  time  they  had  been  suspected  of 
connection  with  the  various  juntas  that  had  been 
born,  flourished,  decayed,  and  died  a  natural 
death  or  been  officially  executed  in  San  Antonio. 
Napier  sat  in  the  agent's  office,  where  he  had  ar 
rived  after  a  circuitous  and  erratic  journey. 
That  Villabosa,  or  some  friend  of  Villabosa, 
might  have  seen  fit  to  follow  him,  was  not  at  all 
improbable — in  fact,  he  thought  the  odds  were  in 
favor  of  it — but  he  was  skilful  in  shaking  off  pur 
suers,  the  streets  were  very  crowded,  and  he  was 
certain,  if  any  one  had  started  out  to  trail  his 
footsteps,  that  the  trailer  had  long  since  been 
lost. 

'  We  have  had  our  eyes  on  him,  of  course," 
the  D.  J.  man  said.  "  The  same  as  we  have  had 
them  on  a  hundred  others  of  whom  we  have  never 
been  able  to  find  out  much.  I  have  no  doubt 
there  is  some  plot  to  revolutionize  the  govern- 
men  of  his  own,  his  native  land,  that  he  would 


76  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

like  to  see  succeed.  He  would  hardly  be  a 
refugee  if  there  wasn't.  But  we  don't  know  it. 
He  seems  to  have  some  income,  and  he  appar 
ently  behaves  himself.  Lately,  he  hasn't  come  to 
our  attention  at  all,  but  at  one  time  we  watched 
him  a  good  deal  because  he  had  some  bum 
friends  and  we  have  to  go  on  the  principle,  you 
know,  that  evil  associations  corrupt  good  man 
ners.  That  crowd  he  used  to  seem  to  know 
pretty  well  has  gone  away  from  here,  now. 
Things  happened  to  most  of  them.  They  were 
Pancho  Villa  men." 

"  He  wasn't  active  in  the  group,  you  say? " 

"  Never  that  we  could  find  out.  He  merely 
kept  bad  company.  There  hasn't  been  much  of 
a  Villa  group  here  since  the  Pershing  expedition, 
and  such  friends  as  Villabosa  has  now — he  isn't 
much  of  a  mixer — aren't  connected  with  any 
junta  at  all,  so  far  as  we  know.  He  seems  to  be 
a  quiet,  orderly,  still-waters-run-deep  sort  of  old 
fellow,  who  mostly  minds  his  own  business. 
What  are  you  after  him  for?  Has  he  been 
dodging  duties?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  am  trying  to  find  out.  Tell 
me  some  more  about  those  old  friends  he  used 
to  have.  That  Villa  group." 

"  They  were  mostly  men  from  Northern  Mex 
ico — Coahuila  and  Chihuahua — who  had  got 
tangled  up  in  one  or  the  other  of  the  ructions 
after  old  Don  Porfirio  quit,  and  had  found  this 
side  of  the  border  safer  than  the  other.  Bad 
hombres.  We  got  some  of  them  at  the  time  of 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  77 

the  Plan  of  San  Diego  uprising,  and  some  others 
of  them  went  back  when  Pancho  was  going 
strong,  and  disappeared.  But,  as  I  say,  we 
never  were  sure  this  Villabosa  had  anything  to 
do  with  their  political  plots." 

"  Would  you  think  it  likely  he  might  have  a 
present  acquaintance  with  hard  characters  across 
the  Rio  Grande — bandits,  perhaps?  " 

"  More  than  likely.  Any  man  who  knew  that 
Villa  gang  he  used  to  associate  with  wouldn't  be 
fussy  about  his  acquaintances.  And  he  isn't  the 
real  thing;  you  don't  see  any  of  these  rich  old 
refugees  of  good  Mexican  family  associating  with 
him.  I  suppose  what  you  are  getting  at  is  that 
he  might  be  a  member  of  a  gang  of  smugglers. 
That  is  quite  out  of  my  line,  of  course,  and  I 
don't  know  a  thing  about  it,  but  if  you  want  to 
know  whether  I  think  he  is  too  good  to  have  con 
nections  of  that  sort,  I  don't." 

Less  than  an  hour  afterward,  an  unobtrusive, 
wiry  young  man  named  Gordon,  invited  to  as 
sist  on  the  recommendation  of  Collector  Lamb, 
took  upon  himself  the  task  of  following  Senor 
Villabosa  until  further  orders,  with  a  view  to 
adding  to  the  Treasury  Department's  knowledge 
of  him  and  his  friends.  When  Gordon  had  lis 
tened  to  Napier's  description  of  the  man  and  set 
out  for  the  Bonham  to  begin  his  labors,  the  col 
lector  smiled  across  his  desk  at  the  special  agent. 

:<  Making  progress,  are  you? "  he  commented. 

'  Well,  we  have  made  a  little,  too.     Our  man 

saw  Policeman  Guerra,  and  Guerra  was  glad  to 


78  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

talk.  The  late  Angel  Puenta' s  Chinese  friends, 
so  far  as  he  had  observed,  all  seem  to  be  connected 
more  or  less  with  that  big  restaurant  keeper  I 
told  you  about  the  other  day — Charles  Toy." 

He  consulted  a  slip  of  paper  on  his  desk. 

"  Wang  Ting  is  one  of  the  Chinks  Guerra  has 
-seen  him  with,  and  Wang  Ting  is  a  servant  of 
some  sort  at  Toy's  house.  And  he  has  seen 
Puenta  coming  and  going  from  Toy's  place — 
several  times.  He  had  the  impression,  always, 
that  Puenta  was  a  sort  of  errand  boy  for  Toy. 
Having  some  Mexican  blood  himself,  he  was 
scornful  of  a  Mexican  who  would  run  errands  for 
Chinamen,  but  he  figured  that  Puenta,  being  a 
dope  fiend,  was  keeping  close  to  a  source  of 
supply." 

"  By  '  Toy's  place,'  do  you  mean  the  restaur 
ant?" 

"  No.  Guerra  doesn't  know  anything  about 
the  restaurant ;  that  isn't  on  his  beat  or  anywhere 
near  it.  It  was  Toy's  house  where  he  saw  Puenta. 
It  is  a  large  house,  one  of  the  elaborate  build 
ings  over  in  that  section.  In  the  old  days  it 
used  to  be  called  '  Harmony  Palace ' ;  made 
a  specialty  of  its  music.  It  sets  in  the  middle  of 
a  quarter  of  a  block  of  land — here,  I'll  show  you." 
The  collector  indicated  the  location  on  his  map. 

"  Toy  has  a  family,  has  he?  " 

"  He  has  a  considerable  household,  I  gather. 
Whether  the  other  Chinese  who  live  there  are 
his  relatives,  or  business  associates,  or  fellow 
members  of  a  society,  I  don't  know,  and  I  don't 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  79 

suppose  any  other  American  does.  Rents  are 
nothing  like  what  they  used  to  be  over  in  that 
section,  of  course,  but,  even  so,  Mr.  Charles  Toy 
must  be  a  prosperous  person  to  be  able  to  afford 
a  house  like  that.  Well,  Guerra  saw  Puenta 
coming  and  going  there  several  times,  and  he  saw 
Puenta  meet  and  talk  to  this  Wang  Ting  I  men 
tioned,  who  is  some  sort  of  servant  or  henchman 
of  Toy's.  But  principally,  he  has  the  fellow 
placed  as  an  acquaintance  of  Joe  Fong's,  and  Joe 
Fong  is  one  of  Toy's  right-hand  men." 

"At  his  place  of  business?  " 

"  Yes.  This  Fong  seems  to  be  an  interesting 
character.  If  there  is  any  connection  between 
Mexicans  and  Chinese  in  a  smuggling  scheme, 
he  might  prove  to  be  more  or  less  of  a  go-be 
tween.  At  least,  his  blood  fits  him  to  be.  He  is 
a  half-breed.  Half  Chinese  and  half  pelado 
Mexican.  There's  a  combination  for  you! 
Guerra  says  his  name  is  supposed  to  be  Jose, 
and  that  the  Mexicans  say  his  mother  tried  to 
have  him  raised  Christian,  but  the  Lord  only 
knows  whether  he  thinks  of  himself  as  Chinese 
or  Mexican.  Some  days  he  acts  like  one  and 
some  days  like  the  other." 

"And  probably  with  the  worst  attributes  of 
both,"  Napier  commented. 

'  Well,  that's  the  story.  The  only  other  name 
I  have  here  is  the  name  of  Toy's  manager,  or 
something  of  that  sort,  at  the  restaurant — the 
man  who  always  seems  to  be  in  charge  when  Toy 
isn't  there.  He  also  lives  at  *  Harmony  Palace,' 


80  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

but  Guerra  never  saw  Puenta  in  his  company. 
Our  man  made  a  memoranda  of  the  name  only  on 
general  principles.  It  is  Tung  Sheng." 

Napier  had  made  note  of  the  names  as  the 
collector  read  them.  Now  he  put  away  his  little 
memorandum  book  and  remarked: 

'  They  could  be  a  company  of  most  excellent 
merchants,  and  they  could  be  a  fine  gang  of 
crooks,  with  opium-running  and  other  activities 
on  the  side — and  I  don't  know  but  one  way  to 
find  out.  I  am  going  to  become  a  chop-suey 
hound.  Beginning  at  dinner  time  to-night/7 

He  consulted  his  watch.  "Arid  in  the  mean 
time  I  will  go  back  to  the  hotel,  order  my  phleg 
matic  chauffeur,  and  get  out  into  the  crowded 
highways  and  byways  to  keep  my  eyes  open  for 
Kalat  Pasha.  And  also  for  a  beautiful  Italian 
lady  who  smiled  and  sent  a  message." 

"  Did  she?  You  must  have  learned  that  since 
you  saw  me  this  forenoon.  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  I  don't.  It  is  merely  my  best  guess  at  this 
minute.  I've  seen  the  other  one,  and  I  am  con 
vinced  she  didn't." 


CHAPTER  VII 

IT  was  not  yet  dark,  that  evening,  when 
Napier,  with  a  magazine  in  his  hand,  leisurely 
ascended  the  stairs  that  led  to  the  Oriental 
restaurant  of  Charles  Toy  and  surveyed  the  big 
dining-room  from  the  entrance  door. 

It  was  a  well-furnished,  prosperous  looking 
place,  with  the  customary  Chinese  decorations, 
the  inevitable  odors,  and  many  tables  for  two  and 
four  people.  Off  at  one  side  was  a  doorway  that 
a  party  of  diners  was  just  passing  through, 
probably  to  private  rooms.  The  place  was  fairly 
well  filled,  but  not  crowded;  it  was  hardly  late 
enough  for  it  to  be  doing  its  heavy  business; 
Napier  thought  that  in  ordinary  weeks  it  would 
have  been  nearly  empty  at  this  hour,  but  during 
Fiesta  time  any  restaurant  of  whatever  char 
acter  is  bound  to  have  an  unusual  patronage. 

Close  at  hand,  in  a  cashier's  cage,  sat  a  tall, 
stout,  elderly  Chinaman  with  round  spectacles 
and  an  air  of  bland  benevolence.  This,  he 
thought,  would  probably  be  Toy.  As  he  stood 
there,  sizing  up  the  place  and  seeming  only  to 
look  for  a  table  that  he  liked,  another  Chinaman 
came  from  somewhere  rearward  and  also  entered 
the  cage,  where  he  conversed  with  Toy.  He  was 
in  early  middle  age,  intelligent  looking  and  quick 


82  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

in  his  movements.  From  his  manner  of  author 
ity  and  the  freedom  with  which  he  addressed 
the  old,  benevolent  one,  Napier  guessed  this  to 
be  the  manager,  Tung  Sheng. 

He  observed,  with  gratification,  a  large  table 
far  back  at  the  rear  of  the  room,  a  table  with 
eight  stools,  two  of  which  were  occupied  by 
Chinamen  who  were  being  served  with  steaming 
bowls  of  rice.  In  the  center  of  the  table  was  a 
great  platter  of  boiled  meat  of  some  sort,  from 
which  the  pair  were  making  ready  to  help  them 
selves.  He  had  hoped  to  find  something  like  this 
during  an  off  hour.  Charles  Toy  evidently 
served  Chinese  regular  boarders,  or,  at  least, 
served  a  meal  for  his  compatriots  more  in  accord 
ance  with  their  likes  than  the  dishes  on  his  regu 
lar  bill-of-fare. 

By  the  size  of  the  platter  in  the  middle  of  the 
table  Napier  thought  more  diners  were  momen 
tarily  expected  to  join  the  two  already  present, 
who,  however,  were  not  waiting  or  otherwise 
standing  upon  ceremony,  but  were  fishing  bits  of 
meat  out  of  the  common  dish  with  deft  chop 
sticks  and  alternating  them  with  gulped  mouth- 
fuls  of  rice,  pushed  swiftly  between  their  lips 
from  the  edges  of  their  bowls. 

It  would  be  from  that  table  that  gossip  might 
be  overheard,  if  anywhere  in  the  room.  He 
sauntered  toward  it,  studying  the  lights  above 
the  tables.  It  was  quite  clear  to  any  one  ob 
serving  him  that  he  proposed  eating  in  leisurely 
fashion  and  reading  as  he  ate,  and  that  he  sought 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  83 

a  place  where  the  light  would  fall  conveniently. 
A  little  table  that  filled  these  specifications  stood 
at  the  side  of  the  room,  not  ten  feet  from  the 
big  one  where  the  Chinese  were.  He  took  a  seat, 
studied  the  bill-of-f are,  ordered  chow  mien,  which, 
needing  to  be  cooked  to  order,  takes  considerable 
time,  and  opened  his  magazine. 

Two  more  Chinese  came  in  after  a  few  mo 
ments,  and  just  behind  them  another  and  another. 
They  dropped  into  the  places  at  the  large  table 
and  fell  to  eating  their  rice  and  meat.  A  waiter 
brought  a  tureen  of  soup,  of  which  each  took  a 
share  in  a  flat-bottomed  ladle  that  thereafter 
rested  at  the  side  of  his  rice  bowl.  They  all 
drank  many  little  cups  of  tea. 

After  the  first  edge  of  their  hunger  had  passed, 
they  talked,  not  loudly.  Napier  could  hear  some 
of  the  things  they  said,  especially  when  some 
diner,  feeling  impelled  to  make  a  remark  when 
his  mouth  was  full  of  rice,  raised  his  voice.  They 
all  spoke  the  Cantonese  dialect. 

What  they  said  was  excessively  unimportant. 
Napier,  who  made  his  eyes  follow  the  print  be 
fore  him  and  did  not  forget  to  turn  a  page 
occasionally,  made  out  something  about  a 
man — a  grocer,  he  gathered — who  had  passed 
through  a  painful  experience  with  some  un 
reasonable  official  who  had  declared  he  did  not 
screen  his  vegetables  sufficiently;  that  another 
person  had  lost  eighty  dollars,  American  gold, 
at  fan-tan ;  that  somebody  else  had  received  word 
from  China  that  his  grandfather  had  gone  to  join 


84  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

his  honorable  ancestors.  Two  more  Chinese 
came  in,  and  the  table  was  filled.  One  of  the 
latest  arrivals  was  a  fat  man  who  seemed  to  have 
a  reputation  as  a  humorist.  At  his  comments 
on  men  and  things  the  table  laughed  Avith  quiet 
immoderation. 

The  old  man  in  the  cashier's  cage  looked  at  the 
clock,  got  up  out  of  his  chair,  and  called  one  of 
his  men,  who  took  his  place  at  the  desk.  The 
manager  came  from  somewhere  with  his  hat  in 
his  hand.  Old  Toy  took  his  hat  down  from  a 
hook,  and  he  and  the  manager  went  out  to 
gether. 

"  Never  have  I  seen  the  old  sire  and  Tung  both 
leave  this  place  in  the  evening  at  the  same  time," 
one  of  the  Chinese  at  the  boarders'  table  re 
marked.  "  Old  sire  "  was  the  literal  translation 
of  the  phrase;  it  was  the  common  Cantonese  ap 
pellation  for  one  in  authority,  the  boss.  A 
more  correct  translation,  as  regards  its  meaning, 
would  be  "  great  one." 

"And  with  all  these  festival  crowds."  another 
Chinaman  added  idly.  "  Last  night,  because  of 
the  sickness  of  Look  Sing,  I  waited  on  tables 
here.  It  was  so  crowded,  after  the  parade,  that 
people  in  numbers  waited  their  turn.  Not  until 
one  o'clock  in  the  morning  did  the  last  customer 
depart.  And  all  that  time,  from  seven  to  one, 
they  were  both  here.  It  must  be  something  im 
portant  that  makes  them  leave  now.  But  per 
haps  they  will  come  back  before  the  crowds  get 
large." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  85 

"  There  must  be  a  meeting  at  the  great  house," 
the  first  speaker  guessed.  "  It  would  be  an  im 
portant  meeting  to  take  both." 

"  Perhaps  a  ship  arrives,"  the  fat,  humorous 
person  chuckled.  "  With  bitter  ballast."  The 
others  laughed  appreciatively.  Napier  turned 
another  page,  tried  to  look  absorbed  in  his  maga 
zine,  and  strained  his  ears.  Here  was  a  phrase 
with  significance.  "A  ship  with  bitter  ballast." 
Often  had  he  heard  it  in  China,  where  daring  men 
risk  their  junks,  their  cargoes  and  their  liberty  to 
evade  the  salt  duties.  A  smuggling  ship. 

A  soft  voice,  a  new  one,  replied  to  the  fat  man's 
pleasantry.  For  all  its  softness,  there  was  in  it 
a  note  of  cold  menace: 

"  He  who  speaks  too  much  with  his  voice  some 
times  comes  suddenly  to  a  day  when  his  voice  is 
hushed." 

Out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  Napier  saw  that 
he  who  had  uttered  this  obvious  reproof  and 
warning,  who  had  come  up  from  kitchenward  to 
the  rear  of  the  boarders'  table  just  in  time  to  hear 
the  fat  man's  pleasantry,  was  a  young  man  with 
the  complexion  and  cheekbones  of  a  Mexican 
pelado,  or  low-class  Indian,  and  the  slant  eyes 
of  a  Mongolian.  The  combination  was  repellant 
and  sinister.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  identifying 
him,  from  Lamb's  description,  as  that  half-caste 
member  of  Toy's  staff  of  right-hand  men  who 
was  called  Joe  Fong. 

The  humorist  no  longer  smiled,  and  the  others 
ceased  their  cackling  as  though  an  extinguisher 


86  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

had  been  jammed  down  on  their  merriment  and 
ate  hurriedly,  their  faces  wooden. 

"  It  was  only  a  jest,"  the  fat  man  protested. 
His  voice  was  apologetic,  his  whole  attitude 
cringing.  '*  There  is  no  one  here  who  is  not  one 
of  us,  except  the  barbarians,  who  do  not  under 
stand  our  tongue." 

"  Jests  can  be  foolish — and  dangerous — even 
when  there  is  nobody  to  hear,"  Joe  Fong  de 
clared.  And  added,  sententiously :  '  There  is 
wisdom  in  a  short  tongue,  but  the  tongue  that  is 
too  long  becomes  silent." 

He  turned  and  disappeared  noiselessly,  leav 
ing  a  hushed  and  uncomfortable  double  quar 
tette  of  Chinamen. 

Napier  ate  his  chow  mien,  drank  his  tea,  and 
left  the  restaurant.  Until  then,  he  had  rather 
planned  to  spend  the  evening  in  the  automobile, 
still  searching  for  the  face  of  Kalat,  but  the  con 
versation  he  had  overheard  decided  him  to  devote 
at  least  a  portion  of  the  coming  hours  to  a  survey 
of  the  residence  of  Charles  Toy.  He  took  it  for 
granted  the  man  who  had  referred  to  a  meeting 
at  "  the  great  house  "  had  meant  the  ornate  estab 
lishment  across  the  creek  formerly  known  as 
"  Harmony  Palace." 

When  he  had  come  to  the  vicinity  of  the  place, 
by  a  roundabout  way,  it  was  half-past  nine 
o'clock.  There  was  no  moon,  and  except  where 
the  arcs  burned  on  the  street  corners  or  here  and 
there  a  beam  of  light  streamed  out  from  an  un 
curtained  window,  the  section  was  very  dark. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  87 

He  came  down  a  cross  street  to  the  side  of  the 
three  big  lots,  in  the  center  of  which  the  house 
sat,  and  saw  with  satisfaction  that  the  deep  shade 
of  several  mulberry  trees  just  off  the  sidewalk 
would  afford  him  concealment. 

The  big,  many-roomed  mansion,  two  storied 
and  architecturally  ambitious — he  had  no  doubt 
some  designer  had  been  given  a  free  hand  at  the 
time  of  its  building,  and  that  the  interior  would 
prove  to  be  even  more  ornate  than  its  outside — 
gave  little  sign  of  being  occupied.  A  glimmer 
of  light  showed  in  one  upstairs  window.  Down 
stairs  no  lights  showed,  probably  due  to  the  pres 
ence  of  heavy  curtains  and  window  draperies. 
In  striking  contrast  to  this  interior  darkness  was 
a  garish  brilliancy  of  light  outside  the  house,  in 
front,  where  over  the  door  a  cluster  of  incandes- 
cents  of  high  candle-power  made  the  walk  that 
led  up  from  the  sidewalk  a  path  in  which  one's 
personality  would  not  be  hidden  from  any  eye 
looking  out  from  a  darkened  room  or  hall. 

Expected  guests,  Napier  judged,  would  enter 
by  that  front  door,  and  those  in  the  house  would 
know  whether  or  not  they  were  the  right  ones  be 
fore  ever  they  came  within  reaching  distance  of 
the  doorbell. 

The  neighborhood  was  still.  Somewhere,  a 
block  or  two  away,  a  player  with  Oriental  ideas 
of  music  was  extorting  weird  noises  from  a  Chi 
nese  fiddle.  At  a  distance  in  the  other  direction, 
in  strange  opposition,  a  phonograph  was  shrilling 
the  monotonous  syncopation  of  a  most  up-to-date 


88  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

jazz  waltz.  Except  for  these,  there  were  almost 
no  sounds. 

Napier,  from  his  place  of  concealment  behind 
a  mulberry  tree,  wondered  if  the  gossiping  China 
man  in  the  restaurant  had  really  guessed  right — 
if  there  really  were  any  meeting  or  conference  in 
progress  here  in  the  great  house.  If  so,  had  the 
participants  all  arrived?  This  was  not  impor 
tant  ;  he  could  study  them  as  they  departed.  He 
leaned  his  shoulder  against  the  tree  trunk,  mak 
ing  himself  comfortable  for  a  wait. 

An  automobile  came  through  the  street  from 
the  direction  of  town,  and  stopped  with  a  squeal 
of  brakes  at  the  walk  leading  up  to  the  house. 
From  the  tonneau,  alone,  alighted  Ruth  Glenn. 

She  moved  briskly  toward  the  house  as  though 
she  were  quite  familiar  with  her  surroundings. 
She  stood  a  moment  on  the  gallery.  The  door 
opened.  Napier  could  not  see  who  stood  inside, 
or  hear  what  she  said.  She  stepped  in  and  the 
door  closed. 

At  that  instant  Napier  became  conscious  of  a 
sound,  a  movement,  a  presence  behind  him.  He 
spun  around  to  face  it,  not  quickly  enough.  A 
heavy  blow  crashed  against  his  skull,  over  the  ear, 
and  he  pitched  forward  into  a  blackness  that  was 
spattered  with  whirling  suns. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

NAPIER  struggled  back  to  consciousness  and 
raised  his  head  dizzily.  "  Steady,"  a  voice  whis 
pered.  "  You're  all  right.  Take  it  easy." 

"What :" 

"  Softly.  Better  not  talk.  Sound  carries  on 
a  night  like  this,  and  we  are  pretty  close  to  the 
house.  Better  not  try  to  sit  up  for  a  minute, 
till  your  head  clears  a  bit." 

His  head  ached  and  throbbed,  and  he  tried  to 
recall  exactly  how  he  came  to  be  unconscious. 
He  remembered,  in  a  minute,  and  opened  his 
eyes  to  demand,  with  cautiously  lowered  voice: 
"  "  Who  are  you?  " 

"  Gordon,"  the  man  on  his  knees  beside  him 
said.  "  I  was  following  your  old  friend  Villa- 
bosa,  you  know." 

Napier's  mind  cleared  rapidly,  and  he  sat  up. 
An  outstretched  hand,  on  the  side  away  from  the 
wiry  young  treasury  agent,  encountered  a  still 
object  that  was  plainly  part  of  the  prostrate 

figure  of  a  man.     "  What Who  is  that?  " 

he  asked. 

"  The  said  Villabosa,"  Gordon  chuckled.  "  I 
don't  know  exactly  what  shape  he  is  in — I  went 
to  work  on  you  first.  We'll  take  a  look-see  as 
soon  as  you  are  sure  you  are  quite  all  right.  I 


90  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

would  expect  him  to  take  a  little  longer  sleep 
than  you,  anyway,  because  all  he  hit  you  with  was 
a  blackjack,  and  I  had  to  wallop  him  over  the 
side  of  the  head  with  a  pistol." 

Napier  rested  his  hand  on  the  Mexican's 
breast ;  it  was  rising  and  falling  regularly.  His 
fingers  came  in  contact  with  metal. 

'  Handcuffed." 

"  Thought  I  wouldn't  take  any  chances  while 
I  was  fussing  with  you.  I  guess  maybe  we'd 
better  gag  him  when  he  comes  to.  There's  no 
sense  letting  him  holler  in  this  neighborhood." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  happened,  if  there's 
time  to  tell  it.  I'm  getting  clear-headed  enough 
now."  Napier  delicately  patted  a  bump  of  in 
creasing  size  an  inch  and  a  half  above  his  right 
ear.  "  It  doesn't  seem  to  have  broken  the  skin, 
but  it  surely  hurts." 

"  There's  mighty  little  to  tell.  He  tried  to 
follow  you,  late  this  afternoon,  when  you  left 
the  hotel — and  lost  you  inside  of  ten  minutes. 
He  went  back  to  the  Bonham  and  stayed  there 
until  after  dinner.  A  little  while  ago  he  started 
for  here.  You  crossed  the  street  ahead  of  him 
about  two  blocks  back,  and  he  slowed  up  and  took 
his  time  trailing  you.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have 
tried  to  warn  you,  but " 

"  But  you  thought  I  probably  was  able  to  take 
care  of  myself,"  Napier  supplied,  when  Gordon 
hesitated. 

"  I  would  have  warned  you  when  he  sneaked 
up  in  back  of  you  if  I  had  known  he  was  so  close. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL1  91 

But  I  was  a  long  way  off  when  you  disappeared 
among  these  trees,  and  when  he  came  up  behind 
you,  with  me  behind  him,  I  didn't  know  that  you 
hadn't  gone  beyond  the  trees  and  up  to  the  back 
of  the  house,  or  somewhere.  I  didn't  know  you 
were  right  here  until  he  rose  up  and  lammed  you. 
He  turned  you  over  in  a  hurry  and  started  to  go 
through  your  pockets." 

"And  you  rose  up  and  lammed  him.  Thanks, 
I'll  do  the  same  for  you  some  time.  What  had 
we  better  do  with  him?  " 

"  That's  up  to  you.  I  don't  know  all  the  de 
tails  of  the  case,  but  I  shouldn't  suppose  we  ought 
to  let  him  loose  after  this." 

"  No,  it  wouldn't  do.  If  he  were  headed  for 
this  house,  and  it  looks  pretty  certain  that  he  was, 
he  would  tell  them  the  first  chance  he  got  that  I 
was  watching  it." 

"We  can  take  him  down  to  headquarters, 
temporarily,  and  then  consider  what  to  do  with 
him  afterward.  My  idea  is  that  when  he  be 
gins  to  take  notice  we  had  better  see  he  is  fixed 
so  he  can't  do  any  shouting,  and  then  one  of  us 
can  stay  here  with  him,  nice  and  quiet  and  out  of 
sight,  while  the  other  goes  and  gets  an  automo 
bile.  Perhaps  I'd  better  be  the  one  to  go;  I 
know  the  town  better  than  you  do." 

Villabosa  sighed  and  moved. 

"  Que  didb~le! "  he  muttered,  and  Napier's 
hands  went  to  his  throat,  while  he  commanded, 
"Keep  quiet!" 

Gordon  wadded  a  handkerchief,  forced  it  be- 


92  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

tween  Villabosa's  teeth,  and  fastened  it  with  an 
other  handkerchief  before  the  dazed  prisoner  was 
fairly  aware  of  what  was  happening. 

"  I'll  slip  away  and  come  back  with  a  closed 
car,"  he  whispered  to  Napier.  "  If  the  police 
happen  to  see  us  taking  him  to  it,  or  happen  to 
discover  you  here — which  is  unlikely — I  don't 
suppose  there  is  anything  to  do  but  identify  our 
selves  and  ask  them  to  run  away  and  play,  but  I 
hope  we  won't  have  to  do  that." 

"  If  any  policemen  pass  while  you  are  gone,  I 
shan't  do  anything  to  attract  their  attention — 
and  neither  will  he." 

Gordon  rose  to  his  feet.  It  suddenly  occurred 
to  Napier  that  he  had  not  looked  toward  the  big 
house  since  he  drifted  back  to  consciousness.  He 
turned  quickly.  The  automobile  that  had  brought 
Ruth  Glenn  was  gone. 

"  How  many  people  left  the  house  while  I  was 
down  and  out?  "  he  asked.  "And  who?  " 

"  Nobody  I  ever  saw  before.  To  tell  the 
truth,  I  was  so  busy  I  didn't  notice  very 
particularly.  A  woman  and  a  man  went  away 
in  the  auto.  Perhaps  it  was  a  woman  and  two 


men." 


"  Can  you  describe  them?  " 

"  No.  I  didn't  hear  them  come  out  of  the 
house.  I  happened  to  hear  voices  and  looked  up, 
and  they  were  all  right  at  the  car,  getting  in.  I 
saw  a  woman  and  two  men,  but  one  of  the  men 
may  have  been  the  chauffeur,  for  all  I  know. 
He  might  have  got  out  of  the  car  for  something. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  93 

I  think  one  of  the  men  was  sort  of  stout  and 
Spanish  looking,  but  I'm  not  sure.  I'm  mighty 
sorry  I  didn't  notice  more,  but  just  at  that  minute 
I  was  trying  to  find  out  whether  you  had  been 
badly  hurt " 

"A  man  can't  do  everything  at  once.  You 
could  hear  their  voices,  you  say? " 

"  But  not  a  word  they  said.  I  don't  even 
know  whether  they  were  speaking  English." 

Villabosa  moved  uneasily,  discovered  the  hand 
cuffs  and  sought  to  give  voice  to  some  emotion. 

"  You  lie  still,  old  sport,"  Gordon  told  him, 
"  and  when  I  come  back  I'll  take  you  where  we 
can  get  that  little  cut  in  your  head  fixed  up." 

"  In  the  meantime,"  Napier  growled,  with  his 
hand  on  his  own  throbbing  bruise,  "  if  you  get 
to  threshing  around  and  trying  to  attract  atten 
tion,  I'll  be  obliged  to  give  you  another  cut  to 
go  with  that  one — on  the  other  side." 

Villabosa  relapsed  into  watchful  waiting,  and 
Gordon  silently  departed. 

Napier,  crouching  beside  the  Mexican,  fixed 
his  eyes  on  the  house.  No  one  entered  or  left. 
No  sour  c  came  from  it.  Its  contrast  of  exterior 
light  and  interior  darkness  was  unchanged. 

Two  Chinamen  crossed  the  street  at  the  corner 
above,  chattering  in  shrill  singsong,  and  passed 
on  about  their  business.  The  muffled  click  of  a 
walking  horse's  hoofs  was  followed  by  the  ap 
pearance  of  a  mounted  policeman,  who  rode  by 
casually,  his  body  slouched,  his  hands  on  the 
pommel  of  his  saddle.  The  officer  had  been  gone 


94  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

five  minutes  when  Gordon  stepped  out  of  a  cov 
ered  automobile  and  hurried  to  Napier's  side. 

"All  right?  Anything  happen?  I  had  good 
luck — called  a  garage  and  found  this  driver  in. 
I've  had  him  before.  Perfectly  reliable  and 
close-mouthed.  He  came  a-runnin'." 

"  I  can't  very  well  go  back  with  you,"  Napier 
told  him.  "  I  want  to  see  who  comes  out  of  the 
house;  nobody  has  since  you've  been  gone.  Sup 
pose  you  take  him  down  to  the  Federal  Building 
and  let  me  join  you  there  a  little  later.  Or  you 
could  have  him  locked  up,  if  I  don't  get  there  for 
some  time,  and  we  can  question  him  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

"  I  haven't  anything  to  do  but  stick  to  him,  and 
he  hasn't  a  thing  in  the  world  on  hand  but  hang 
around  with  me.  I'll  do  a  little  first-aid  on  his 
head,  or  get  in  a  doctor  if  he  seems  to  need  a 
stitch  or  two,  and  then  we'll  make  ourselves  com 
fortable  and  wait.  It  isn't  late — hardly  ten 
o'clock." 

They  turned  to  Villabosa  and  bade  him  get  up 
and  go  with  Gordon.  Resistance  was  useless; 
protest  impossible.  He  went  with  docility. 

The  purr  of  their  motor  had  hardly  faded  when 
another  automobile  came  through  the  street  on 
which  the  big  house  faced  and  drew  up  in  front 
of  it.  Its  chauffeur  sounded  his  horn  with  that 
impatient  emphasis  that  is  almost  the  trademark 
of  taxi-drivers  who  prefer  to  avoid  the  steps 
necessary  to  walk  to  a  door  and  announce  that 
the  carriage  waits.  Immediately  Charles  Toy 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  95 

and  Tung  Sheng,  his  manager,  came  out  of  the 
house,  climbed  into  the  car,  and  were  driven 
away — back  to  the  restaurant,  no  doubt,  in  time 
for  the  evening's  greatest  rush. 

The  cluster  of  electric  lights  under  the  veranda 
roof  went  dark.  Whatever  meeting  had  been 
held  at  the  "  great  house  "  that  evening  was  ob 
viously  adjourned. 

Napier  waited  a  little,  to  see  if  any  other 
activities  developed.  For  all  he  could  see  or 
hear,  the  place  might  have  been  unoccupied.  He 
slipped  out  of  the  shadow  of  the  mulberry  trees, 
finally,  and  set  out  in  the  direction  of  town. 

Somewhere  ahead  of  him,  a  player  was  tor 
turing  a  Chinese  fiddle.  He  had  noticed  it  about 
the  time  of  his  arrival;  it  occurred  to  him,  now, 
that  he  had  been  subconsciously  aware  of  the 
monotonous  repetitions  of  the  musician  most  of 
the  time  since. 

For  two  blocks  his  mind  had  been  filled  with 
the  complications  that  the  evening's  adventures 
had  added  to  his  problem,  but  now,  when  he  was 
within  perhaps  a  block  of  the  player,  something 
about  the  weird  scrapings  and  squealings  made 
an  insistent  demand  upon  his  powers  of  recollec 
tion.  Where,  among  all  the  Chinese  fiddling  he 
had  heard,  had  something  happened  that  this  one 
was  recalling? 

Three  shrill,  ascending  notes — discordant  and 
barbaric  to  Western  ears — a  shrieking  run,  and 
then  three  shrill,  sharp,  descending  notes.  It 
came  to  Napier  what  it  was  that  hammered  at  his 


96  THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

memory.  He  knew  this  tune;  it  was  one  of  the 
two  or  three  Chinese  airs  he  had  ever  been  able 
to  distinguish  definitely  from  the  others.  Old 
Kwong  Li  played  it,  over  and  over,  when  he  and 
Kwong  were  friends  in  San  Francisco,  three 
years  ago.  Kwong  had  solemnly  assured  him 
that  there  were  only  a  few  musicians  who  could 
play  it  exactly  as  it  should  be  played.  Its  name 
was  "  The  Running  Brook  at  Springtime  and 
the  Little  Bird  in  the  Tree."  For  all  his  head 
ache  he  grinned  a  little  as  he  remembered  how  he 
had  always  wanted  to  ask  Kwong  whether  the 
three  sharp,  descending  notes  were  supposed  to 
represent  the  running  brook  hitting  a  waterfall 
or  the  little  bird  falling  out  of  the  tree.  Of 
course  he  never  had,  for  that  would  have  hurt 
Kwong's  feelings.  Kwong  took  it  for  granted 
he  knew.  Kwong  thought  he  appreciated  Chi 
nese  music. 

The  player  was  back  at  the  beginning  of  the 
tune  now,  starting  all  over  again.  He  must  be 
as  fond  of  it  as  old  Kwong. 

Napier  saw,  a  half  block  before  him,  a  little, 
one-storied  grocery.  It  had  not  yet  closed  for 
the  night;  there  was  a  light  inside  and  at  least 
one  customer.  The  narrow  front  gallery  was  in 
darkness  except  for  such  rays  as  straggled 
through  the  front  window,  and  the  fiddler  was 
seated  out  there.  Napier  thought  amusedly  that 
the  man  was  having  an  enthusiastic  evening  all 
by  himself.  Neighboring  Chinese  had  probably 
not  even  noticed  him,  but  in  a  Caucasian  section 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  97 

such  harrowing  sounds  as  he  was  producing 
would  have  long  since  busied  every  telephone  in 
the  vicinity  with  frantic  calls  for  the  police. 

The  customer  came  out  through  the  door, 
chanting  a  Cantonese  farewell  to  the  grocer  in 
side.  He  stepped  down  from  the  gallery  and 
then  turned  and  bowed  deferentially  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  hidden  musician. 

"  Good  night,  Kwong  Li,"  he  called  respect 
fully.  "  May  no  demons  disturb  your  dreams." 

The  fiddler  stopped.  "  Good  night,  honorable 
friend,"  he  replied.  "  May  you  awaken,  re 
freshed,  to  the  best  of  rice." 

All  requirements  of  etiquette  now  being  per 
fectly  fulfilled,  the  one-string  fiddle  resumed  the 
tune  on  the  next  note  to  that  on  which  it  had  been 
interrupted. 

The  customer  had  vanished,  and  the  grocer  had 
gone  to  the  rear  of  the  store  when  Napier  paused 
in  the  shadows  close  to  the  gallery  and  called 
softly,  in  his  best  Mandarin: 

"Kwong  Li!  Is  it  not  the  honorable  and 
venerable  Kwong  Li? " 

The  bow  bit  off  the  sound  in  the  middle  of  a 
dispirited  wail,  and  the  old  Chinaman  shuffled 
quickly  forward.  Napier  stepped  a  little  into 
the  light,  and  the  other  bowed  with  sedate  dignity, 
while  from  his  lips  fell  a  sentence  out  of  the 
Analects  of  Confucius: 

"  '  Is  it  not  a  charming  thing  when  a  friend 
comes  from  afar?  *  " 


CHAPTER  IX 

"AT  a  distance  I  heard  the  music,"  Napier  said 
gravely,  "  and  I  thought,  *  Can  it  be  possible  that 
in  this  city  there  is  one  who  can  play  of  The 
Running  Brook  at  Springtime  and  the  Little 
Bird  in  the  Tree  like  Kwong  Li,  who  is  in  San 
Francisco? ' 

Kwong  inclined  his  head  to  the  compliment. 
"  Will  you  not  honor  me  by  entering  the  humble 
abode  of  my  nephew?  "  he  asked  ceremoniously. 
And  added,  after  Napier,  with  regard  for  the 
conventions,  had  murmured,  "  It  would  be  pre 
sumptuous  for  me  to  precede  you,"  and  then,  on 
the  old  man's  insistence,  had  passed  first  through 
the  door.  "It  is  a  poor  place.  A  very  poor 
place." 

It  was,  but  Napier,  who  knew  Kwong  would 
have  spoken  the  same  words  if  he  had  been  re 
ceiving  him  in  a  palace,  replied  with  the  proper 
sentiment : 

"  It  is  a  most  excellent  place.  A  very  delight 
ful  place." 

A  young  Chinaman  appeared  in  the  door  to  a 
living  room  behind  the  store,  surveying  this  most 
unusual  guest  as  impassively  as  though  tall 
Americans  who  spoke  Chinese  were  quite  within 
his  common  daily  experience. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL  99 

"  Kwong  Yet,  we  are  honored  by  the  visit  of 
my  great  friend  Nah  Poo,"  old  Kwong  told  him, 
"  Nah  Poo  "  being  the  nearest  he  had  ever  been 
able  to  come  to  the  pronunciation  of  Napier.  "  I 
have  told  you  the  story  of  how  I  was  accused  of 
being  concerned  in  smuggling  with  which  I  had 
nothing  to  do,  and  that  I  should  surely  have  been 
punished,  being  entangled  in  evidence  that  I 
could  not  prove  false,  but  for  an  official  who 
sought  to  protect  the  innocent  as  well  as  punish 
the  guilty.  Nah  Poo  is  he  who  saved  your 
father's  brother." 

'  The  nephew  of  Kwong  Li  is  your  servant  for 
your  kindness  to  the  elder  one  of  his  clan,"  mur 
mured  Kwong  Yet.  "  This  is  your  home,  and 
all  the  poor  things  in  it  are  your  property." 

Kwong  Li,  since  coming  into  his  nephew's 
hearing,  had  dropped  the  Mandarin  dialect  and 
spoken  in  Cantonese,  from  which  Napier  judged 
the  younger  man,  perhaps  American  born,  did 
not  possess  the  education  of  his  uncle.  He  also 
dropped  into  Cantonese  in  his  courteous  reply. 

Old  Kwong  urged  him  to  be  seated  and  accept 
a  pipe.  "A  tobacco  pipe,"  he  smiled.  "  I  know 
you  do  not  use  opium,  and  you  know  already,  my 
friend,  that  neither  do  I.  Nor  does  Kwong 
Yet." 

"A  plain  pipe  and  a  mere  pinch  of  tobacco," 
Napier  deprecated.  Clearly  Kwong  Li  pro 
posed  to  make  this  a  ceremonial  visit,  and  he 
could  not  let  his  impatience  to  rejoin  Gordon  and 
his  prisoner  show  in  any  slighting  of  the 


100          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

ternary  forms  unless  he  wished  Kwong  to  take 
offense.  Kwong  Yet  got  pipes,  filled  them,  and 
brought  matches.  Then,  perhaps  in  obedience  to 
some  sign  from  his  uncle,  he  mentioned  apolo 
getically  that  he  had  a  small  errand  which  would 
take  him  out  of  the  store  for  a  while.  He  would 
close  it  for  the  night,  and  his  honorable  elders 
would  not  be  disturbed.  He  bowed  deeply  and' 
went  away. 

In  silence  Napier  and  his  wrinkled  host  smoked 
slowly.  Not  until  half  a  pipeful  had  been  burned 
did  either  speak.  Then  Napier  said: 

"It  is  strange  to  find  you  a  thousand  miles 
from  San  Francisco." 

"  Only  four  days  have  I  been  here,"  Kwong  re 
plied.  "  I  came  to  visit  the  son  of  my  brother. 
Some  day  I  shall  return,  I  think,  but  it  is  not 
important.  I  have  sold  my  business." 

"  So  good  a  merchant  as  you  has  surely  been 
successful." 

"  I  have  saved  enough.  I  need  not  call  on 
friends  for  alms,  if  illness  comes,  or  fear  that 
there  is  not  enough  to  send  my  bones  to  rest  be 
side  those  of  the  honorable  ancestors,"  the  old 
man  replied  complacently.  "  Not  for  many 
years  had  I  seen  my  nephew.  His  business  here 
is  not  a  great  one,  but  better  men  have  done  worse 
than  he  is  doing." 

Another  interval  of  smoking,  and  Napier 
thought  the  time  had  arrived  when  he  might 
properly  introduce  the  subject  that  was  fore 
most  in  his  thoughts. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          101 

"  I  think,  Kwong  Li,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am 
going  to  ask  of  you  a  very  great  favor." 

The  Chinaman  inhaled  a  deep  puff  of  smoke 
before  he  replied.  He  knew  Napier's  occupa 
tion. 

"  No  favor  for  you  would  be  great,"  he  said 
then.  "  I  am  old,  but  my  mind  is  still  as  clear 
as  when  I  was  young.  I  do  not  forget.  There 
was  a  day  when  I  said  to  you  that  if  ever  you 
should  come  to  me  and  demand  payment  for  the 
debt  I  owed  you,  that  day  the  payment  should  be 
made.  My  memory  tells  me  that  I  struck  palms 
of  hands  with  you  when  I  said  it.  What  do 
you  require  of  me,  Nah  Poo?  " 

"  No,"  Napier  said.  "  It  is  not  a  demand.  It 
is  what  I  said — a  favor.  If  it  is  a  very  danger 
ous  thing  for  you  to  accede  to  it,  I  do  not  hold 
you  to  the  promise.  I  am  not  asking  payment; 
the  slight  thing  I  was  able  to  do  for  you  was  not 
in  hope  of  reward.  You  will  remember  I  did 
not  even  know  you  and  your  excellent  qualities 
when  I  did  it.  Our  friendship  came  after 
ward." 

"  That  is  true,"  Kwong  said,  and  waited. 

"  No  Chinese  in  this  city  know  my  business," 
Napier  remarked. 

"  None  shall,  from  me  or  my  nephew,"  the  old 
man  assured  him. 

"  Yet  my  business  has  to  do  with  Chinese. 
There  are  those  Here  who  Seal  with  *  cargoes  of 
bitter  ballast.' " 

"As  everywhere." 


102          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Perhaps  they  are  friends  of  yours.  They 
might  even  be  connections  of  your  clan." 

"  Not  that  I  know.  I  have  not  heard,  since  I 
came  here,  who  are  those  who  trade  in — I  sup 
pose  it  is  opium." 

"Yes." 

"  Kwong  Yet  may  know.  Undoubtedly  he 
does  know.  He  has  been  here  some  time." 

"  The  favor  that  I  mention  with  hesitation  has 
to  do  with  the  doings  of  certain  men.  Hear  me, 
Kwong  Li.  If,  when  I  name  them  to  you,  or 
after  you  have  talked  with  your  nephew,  it  ap 
pears  that  they  are  of  your  tong,  or  of  any  clan 
which  it  would  be  dishonorable  for  you  to  injure, 
my  request  is  withdrawn,  and  this  talk  becomes 
a  thing  to  be  forgotten.  If  not " 

His  smoking  host  did  not  hesitate  to  show  re 
lief.  "  *  The  consideration  of  a  friend  for  the 
honor  of  a  friend  is  a  shining  thing,  like  moon 
beams  upon  a  placid  river,'  "  he  quoted.  "  You 
make  it  very  easy." 

"  One  of  these  men,"  Napier  told  him,  without 
more  hesitation,  "  is  called  Charles  Toy.  He  has 
a  big  restaurant." 

'  What  is  his  real  name?  " 

"  I  do  not  know." 

Kwong  shook  his  head.  "  So  far  as  I  am 
aware,  I  never  heard  of  him." 

"  His  manager — who  lives  with  him  in  a  large 
house  three  streets  away  from  here — is  Tung 
Sheng." 

"  I  have  not  heard  that  name,  either." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          103 

"And  there  is  another,  but  I  hear  he  is  a 
menial,  called  Wang  Ting." 

Still  no  recognition. 

"  The  fourth — and  these  are  all  the  names  I 
know  as  yet — is  one  Joe  Fong.  He  is  half  Chi 
nese,  half  Mexican." 

The  old  man's  heavy-lidded  eyes  showed  in 
terest.  "  There  are  not  so  many  who  are  of  that 
mixture,"  he  said.  "  Can  you  describe  him?  " 

Napier  did  so.  The  result  was  quite  surpris 
ing. 

Kwong  Li  made  fluent  remarks,  made  them 
coldly,  dispassionately,  without  raising  his  voice, 
but  positively.  They  had  to  do  with  Joe  Fong, 
with  the  characteristics  and  present  abode  of  his 
ancestors  to  the  fiftieth  generation,  with  the 
morals  of  his  mother  and  the  occupation  of  his 
sisters  and  the  appropriate  fate  of  his  male  chil 
dren,  if  he  should  ever  have  any.  Kwong  was 
very  thorough.  When  he  had  finished  for  lack 
of  further  expletive — and  it  was  some  time,  be 
cause  there  are  many  things  a  Chinaman  can  say 
in  derogation  of  a  person,  and  several  ways  of 
saying  each  one,  and  the  old  man  went  with  detail 
into  most  of  them — Napier  merely  remarked:  "  I 
see  he  is  known  to  you." 

"  Since  noon  to-day.  He  came  past  this  place 
when  I  was  sitting  outside  in  the  shade,  making 
music  with  the  fiddle.  He  does  not  know  how  to 
talk  to  his  elders;  his  ears  are  the  ears  of  a  fool; 
and  his  sense  is  as  the  sense  in  the  flat  head  of  a 
snake." 


104          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Napier  waited  in  silence. 

"  I  am  making  music,  and  he  passes  by.  And 
calls  to  me, '  What  is  the  good  of  all  this  disturb 
ance  when  there  is  no  Chinese  theater  in  town 
where  you  can  get  work? '  And  then,  as  natur 
ally  I  did  not  deign  even  to  notice  him,  he  cried, 
6  But  if  there  was,  you  would  hardly  play  in  it. 
As  big  a  town  as  this  would  have  a  theater  with  a 
good  orchestra.'  I  was  playing,  Nah  Poo,  the 
beautiful  song  of  '  The  Running  Brook  at 
Springtime  and  the  Little  Bird  in  the  Tree.'  as 
not  more  than  five  other  musicians  can  play  it  (I 
say  this  modestly;  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  have  not 
heard  but  two  of  them)  and  I  am  an  old  man, 
entitled  to  the  respect  of  the  young,  even  though 
he  might  be  an  idiot  who  does  not  know  music." 

"  Did  you  reply  to  him?  " 

"  Does  the  man  on  horseback  pay  attention  to 
the  mangy  dog  that  yaps?  But  I  shall  not  for 
get  him,  Nah  Poo.  Tell  me  what  you  want  to 
know  about  him  and  his  friends." 

Kwong  Yet  unlocked  the  outer  door,  some 
minutes  later,  and  came  through  the  store  into 
the  room  where  they  sat. 

"  I  have  a  task  to  do  for  Nah  Poo  that  I  shall 
tell  you  of,  Kwong  Yet,"  the  old  man  said  at 
once,  "  and  when  you  have  heard  it,  you  may 
help  me  do  it,  or  you  may  not,  as  you  wish.  What 
obligation  your  father's  brother  owes  to  Nah  Poo 
you  already  understand,  yet  he  has  not  demanded 
payment.  You  know,  because  you  remember 
my  story,  that  he  is  an  official,  and  you  have 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          105 

guessed  that  his  being  here  has  to  do  with  those 
who  avoid  duties.  He  needs  assistance  that  per 
haps  we  can  give,  but  although  I  was  ready  to 
promise  in  advance — indeed  I  had  already  prom 
ised,  that  time  when  it  looked  as  though  I  would 
spend  the  remaining  days  of  my  life  in  jail — he 
made  it  clear  that  he  does  not  ask  us  to  do  any 
thing  that  would  make  us  lose  face  with  any  one. 
He  does  not  ask  us  to  tell  anything  that  would 
affect  our  tong  or  our  clan." 

The  young  Chinaman  inclined  his  head  in 
Napier's  direction.  "  What  my  father's  brother 
wishes  me  to  do,  I  will  do,"  he  said.  "  His  honor 
is  the  honor  of  our  family.  His  promises  are  my 
promises." 

"  He  has  told  me  names,"  Kwong  Li  went  on. 
"  Charles  Toy,  and  Tung  Sheng,  and  Wang 
Ting,  and  Joe  Fong.  Joe  Fong  is  the  half- 
caste  pig — may  the  bones  of  his  fathers  be  dug 
up  and  scattered — who  called  to  me  this  noon 
with  insulting  words,  as  I  told  you,  Kwong  Yet. 
Do  you  know  any  of  these  names?  " 

"All  of  them,"  Yet  replied,  "  although  I  do  not 
know  any  of  the  men  themselves.  They  are  un 
doubtedly  smugglers,  as  our  friend  here  thinks. 
At  least  I  can  tell  you  that  they  have  opium  to  sell. 
But  I  have  never  asked  many  questions  about 
them.  There  are  people  about  whom  it  is  not  wise 
to  be  curious.  And  yet,"  he  hastened  to  add,  "  I 
will  ask  questions,  if  it  is  the  wish  of  my  uncle." 

'  They  have  no  connections  with  our  family? " 
old  Kwong  queried. 


106          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  None." 

"  Their  tong  is  not  ours?  " 

"  No.  It  is "  He  went  to  the  window  to 

look  out  before  he  finished  the  sentence,  and  when 
he  came  back  he  lowered  his  voice: 

"  Their  organization  is  the  Society  of  the  Fra 
grant  Lily.  Charles  Toy,  whose  name  is  Ng 
Choy,  is  its  chief  in  these  parts." 

Napier  needed  no  explanation  of  the  young 
man's  tiptoed  excursion  to  the  window  or  his 
uneasily  hushed  voice,  for  the  Society  of  the 
Fragrant  Lily  is  not  to  be  spoken  of  lightly  by  a 
man  with  a  yellow  skin,  or  to  be  considered  with 
contempt  by  any  man,  whatever  his  complexion. 
Its  arm  is  long  and  its  judgments  ruthless.  The 
Boxers,  most  of  the  worst  of  them,  were  members 
of  the  Society  of  the  Fragrant  Lily. 


CHAPTER  X 

VILLABOSA  sat  in  a  comfortable  chair  in  a  cor 
ner  of  the  customs  office,  physically  more  or  less 
at  ease — although  he  rested  his  cheek  in  his  hand 
and  from  time  to  time  extended  his  fingers  up 
ward  to  tenderly  caress  a  contusion  ornamented 
by  a  shaved  area  in  which  was  centered  a  strip  of 
sticking  plaster — but  seemingly  low  in  his  mind. 
He  scowled  at  Napier's  entrance,  but  tried  to 
amend  his  expression  in  line  with  a  plan  of  con 
duct  he  had  worked  out  while  waiting. 

Erect  and  alert,  Gordon  sat  at  the  flat  desk 
several  feet  from  the  Mexican,  watching  him. 
On  the  desk  top  were  spread  various  articles, 
quite  plainly  the  salvage  from  the  prisoner's 
pockets. 

"  I  gathered  them  in  before  I  took  the  cuffs 
off,"  Gordon  cheerfully  informed  Napier. 
"  Here's  the  persuader  he  swiped  you  with. 
Pleasant  little  instrument,  isn't  it?" 

"Are  you  the  man  I  struck?"  Villabosa  de 
manded.  "  I  couldn't  see  you  after  I  came  to 
myself.  Are  you  the  man?  " 

Napier  eyed  him  without  answering. 

"  I  felt  sure  it  was  a  mistake,  the  minute  I  had 
done  it,"  the  Mexican  went  on  earnestly.  "  I 
was  turning  you  over  to  see  if  it  wasn't  a  mis- 


108          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

take,  when "  He  shrugged  and  made  a 

significant  gesture  toward  Gordon  and  then  to 
ward  his  own  damaged  scalp.  "  I  am  certainly 
very  sorry.  I  took  you  for  another  man." 

"  Who? "  Napier  asked,  and  Gordon  put  in, 

'  We  haven't  had  any  conversation  at  all.     I 

thought  I  would  wait  till  you  came.     Except  that 

he  has  asked  me  two  or  three  times  why  I  didn't 

take  him  to  the  police  station." 

"  I  decline  to  say  who  I  thought  it  was,"  Villa- 
bosa  declared,  with  only  the  slightest  Spanish 
accent.  *  That  would  make  me  convict  myself. 
This  is  what  happened:  I  was  walking  through 
the  street  and  I  saw  a  man  ahead  of  me  who  I 
thought  was  my  enemy.  I  came  up  behind  him 
and  hit  him.  If  it  were  you,  why,  I  sure  made  a 
mistake."  He  tried  to  smile,  but  his  effort  was 
not  particularly  pleasant.  "  It  is  pretty  clear  I 
am  telling  the  truth,  isn't  it?  I  didn't  have  any 
reason  to  hit  you,  a  fellow  that  I  never  saw  before 
in  my  life." 

"  Don't  know  me  from  Adam,  eh? " 

Villabosa  spread  his  hands.  "  If  I  ever  saw 
you  I  didn't  know  where,"  he  said.  "  You  know 
as  well  as  I  do  that  you  and  I  had  no  quarrel." 

"  We've  got  one  now,"  Napier  told  him. 
"  We'll  have  one  until  my  head  stops  aching,  at 
least." 

"  I  am  ready  to  pay  my  fine.  There  is  noth 
ing  else  to  do.  To  plead  guilty  and  pay  the  fine. 
And  I  am  willing,  if  you  would  not  consider  it 
wrong,  to  ask  you  to  accept  some — some  dam- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          109 

ages,  that  is  the  word — for  my  mistake.  I  want 
to  be  fair.  Am  I  not  fair?  " 

"  What  were  you  looking  for  in  my  pockets?  " 

Villabosa's  face  indicated  shocked  surprise. 
"  Pockets !  No,  sir.  You  are  mistaken.  I  am 
not  a  robber.  Look,  there  on  the  desk  where  this 
officer  took  it  out  of  my  clothes,  is  more  than  a 
hundred  dollars,  and  I  have  money  in  the  bank. 
No,  senor.  You  are  mistaken." 

"  You  turned  him  over  oil  his  back  and  started 
to  go  through  his  pockets,"  Gordon  remarked  dis 
passionately.  "  He  didn't  ask  you  did  you  do  it, 
but  why  you  did  it." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  But  why  do  I  have  to 
stay  here,  to  talk  only  to  you?  I  take  it,  from 
this  office,  that  you  are  a  government  officer. 
Hitting  a  man — assault — isn't  a  crime  against 
the  United  States,  even  if  I  got  the  right  man,  is 
it?  I  ask  you  to  take  me  to  the  police.  I  will 
pay  the  fine.  Or  get  bail,  if  that  is  what  is  re 
quired." 

"After  you  tell  me  what  you  were  trying  to 
steal  out  of  my  pockets,"  Napier  said. 

Villabosa's  continued  denials  were  profuse  and 
vehement.  His  tactics  were  obvious  enough. 
He  was  not  aware  that  Napier  knew  him  at  all; 
certainly  not  that  he  suspected  him  of  any  con 
nection  with  the  tragedy  of  the  night  before.  He 
was  hoping  to  bluff  out  the  story  of  mistaken 
identity. 

"  What  is  your  name  and  where  do  you  live? " 
Napier  demanded. 


110          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Salvador  Villabosa,  and  I  live  at  the  Bon- 
ham.  They  will  tell  you  there  about  me.  Be 
lieve  me,  mister,  I  am  not  the  sort  that  goes  about 
assaulting  and  robbing." 

"  Where  were  you  last  evening?  " 

"  Last  evening?  "  He  hesitated  a  barely  per 
ceptible  second.  "  Early  in  the  evening,  I  was 
out  on  the  street,  seeing  the  parade.  I  was  on 
the  sidewalk  not  far  from  the  Bonham  when  it 
went  by.  Afterward  I  was  in  the  hotel,  all  the 
rest  of  the  evening." 

'  You  may  have  to  prove  that." 

"  I  can."  His  assurance  was  too  positive;  too 
eager.  It  confirmed  all  the  things  Napier  had 
believed. 

"And  you  say  you  never  saw  me  before  in  your 
life.  Don't  you  know  that  I  am  stopping  at  the 
Bonham? " 

"  You  are?  "  His  surprise  was  well  simulated. 
"  I  have  not  seen  everybody  who  stops  there. 
There  are  many  guests  at  the  Bonham,  mister." 

"  You  haven't  seen  me  at  any  time  during  the 
past  three  or  four  days?  " 

"  No,  sir.     Not  that  I  remember." 

"  Who  did  your  little  dope-fiend  friend  come  to 
see  at  the  Bonham,  last  night?  " 

Villabosa  was  not  adept  at  concealing  emotion. 
The  expression  that  came  into  his  eyes,  and  the 
flush  and  succeeding  pallor  that  mounted  to 
his  face,  told  how  heavily  the  question  had 
scored. 

"  Little  dope-fiend  friend,"  he  repeated,  stam- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          111 

mering.  "I  do  not  know  who  you  mean.  I 
have  no  such  friend." 

"  Named  Puenta,"  Napier  supplied.  "  Weren't 
you  standing  there  by  the  desk  when  he  came  into 
the  lobby?  He  said  you  were." 

"  He  said How  could  he,  when  he  didn't 

look I  mean,  how  could  he,  when  I  don't 

know  any  such  person?  " 

"  You  followed  him  when  he  left  and  went  up 
Houston  Street  and  through  Main  and  Military 
Plazas.  What  happened  after  that?  " 

"  But  I  didn't  follow  him.  I  was  at  the  hotel 
every  minute  after  he  left.  I  can  prove  it. 
Prove  it  by  many  people.  Huh!  You  are 
guessing  wrong  there,  senor.  I  was  there  in  the 
lobby  of  the  Bonham  every  minute  from  eleven 
o'clock  until  one.  I  can  prove  it." 

*  You  say  he  didn't  leave  the  Bonham  until 
after  eleven." 

"  I  say No,  I  don't  say  that.  I  don't 

know  what  time  he  left,  because  I  don't  know 
him.  I  don't  know  anything  about  him.  Who 
is  he,  this  Angel  Puenta? " 

"  Never  heard  of  him,  eh?  " 

"  Never,  on  my  word  of  honor." 

'  Then  how  did  you  know  his  first  name  was 
Angel? " 

Villabosa  saw  his  slip;  his  face  showed  it. 
But  he  tried  to  extricate  himself.  "  It  is  the 
name  you  said.  A  dope-fiend  named  Angel 
Puenta,  you  told  me.  Say,  mister!  I  don't 
want  to  be  questioned  like  this.  I  haven't  done 


112          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

anything  wrong,  except  hit  a  man  that  I  thought 
was  my  enemy,  and  got  the  wrong  fellow.  Take 
me  to  the  police  station.  If  you  won't,  send  word 
to  my  friends.  I  want  a  lawyer." 

"  It's  hard  to  get  a  lawyer  this  hour  of  the 
night,"  Gordon  remarked  amiably.  "  Probably 
the  man  you  wanted  wouldn't  be  in.  There 
won't  be  anything  doing  in  lawyers  for  the 
present." 

"  But  I  demand  it.  I  demand  to  have  word 
sent.  Either  take  me  to  a  judge,  or  I  shall  get 
habeas  corpus,  and  then  we'll  see." 

Napier  considered  him  silently  for  more  than 
a  minute,  during  which  Villabosa  again  repeated 
his  demand  for  friends  and  legal  assistance. 
Then: 

"  Who  killed  Puenta?  "  he  suddenly  asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  How  should  I  know.  I  was 
at  the  hotel,  I  tell  you.  And  I  can  prove  it, 
too."  He  made  a  wriggling  amendment,  to 
square  his  previous  admissions.  "  I  know  now 
who  you  are  talking  about.  I  saw  about  that 
killing  in  the  newspaper.  But  I  wasn't  there. 
It  was  at  twelve  o'clock,  the  paper  said,  and  at 
twelve  o'clock " 

"  Yes,  I  know.  You  were  at  the  Bonham,  and 
you  can  prove  it.  And  I  can  prove  a  few  things, 
too.  What  interest  did  you  have  in  that  Chinese 
label?" 

This  time  Villabosa,  realizing  at  last  that  al 
ready  he  had  talked  too  much,  waited  a  moment 
before  he  answered,  and  then  merely  said,  "  I 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          113 

don't  know  what  you  are  talking  about.  I  want 
a  lawyer." 

And  to  many  other  questions  which  Napier 
and  Gordon  threw  at  him  during  the  next  fifteen 
minutes  his  replies,  over  and  over  again,  were 
the  same.  "  I  don't  know."  "  I  won't  answer." 
"  I  want  a  lawyer." 

They  finally  gave  it  up. 

"  Very  well,"  Napier  said.  "  We'll  let  you 
take  the  night  to  think  it  over.  When  you  get 
ready  to  tell  us  what  we  want  to  know,  you  can 
send  word."  He  rose  and  picked  up  the  hand 
cuffs  that  Gordon  had  tossed  on  the  desk  after 
relieving  the  prisoner  of  them.  *  We  haven't 
any  cells  here  in  the  Federal  Building,  have  we?  " 
he  said  to  Gordon.  "  I  suppose  he  has  to  go 
over  to  police  headquarters." 

"  That's  where  we  keep  'em,"  Gordon  agreed. 
"As  long  as  that  is  where  he  has  been  demanding 
to  be  taken,  he  ought  to  be  tickled  to  death." 

Villabosa  glared,  but  held  out  his  hands. 

"  How  about  my  money  and  other  things,"  he 
growled,  indicating  the  small  array  of  posses 
sions  on  the  desk. 

"  We'll  put  them  in  a  nice  sealed  envelope  and 
keep  them  all  safe,"  Gordon  assured  him. 
*  You'll  get  them  back  by  and  by — all  except  the 
blackjack.  I  don't  believe  you  will  ever  crack 
another  man  over  the  head  with  that  particular 
one.  Do  you  know,  I  don't  believe  you  are  ever 
going  to  crack  anybody  over  the  head  with  any 
blackjack." 


114          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Gordon  counted  the  money  and  made  a  memo 
randum  of  its  amount  before  putting  it  into  the 
envelope.  He  picked  up  and  weighed  in  his 
hand  a  knife  that  could  be  called  a  pocket-knife, 
if  one  were  merely  trying  to  keep  within  legal 
definitions,  but  was  large  enough  to  be  very  dan 
gerous  in  a  scrimmage  in  which  its  wielder  was 
one  familiar  with  the  use  of  edged  steel,  opened 
it  and  commented  on  the  keenness  of  its  blade. 

"  Not  quite  big  enough  to  constitute  *  con 
cealed  weapons/  but  a  handy  little  tool  at  that. 
They  almost  always  have  a  practical  knife  about 
'em  somewhere,  these  Mexicans,"  he  remarked  to 
Napier.  He  put  the  knife,  some  papers  which 
seemed  to  be  of  no  consequence,  and  a  watch  and 
chain,  into  the  envelope. 

There  remained  of  the  prisoner's  belongings 
on  the  desk  only  a  small  bunch  of  keys  and  a 
separate  key,  long,  rectangular,  flat  and  appar 
ently  quite  new.  As  Gordon  moved  to  sweep 
these  in  with  the  rest,  Villabosa,  whose  eyes  had 
been  fixed  on  the  agent's  hands  and  whose  chest 
was  heaving  with  the  emotion  of  his  protests 
and  demands,  made  an  effort  to  calm  himself 
and  said,  in  what  he  tried  to  make  a  natural 
voice: 

"  I  can't  hurt  anybody  else  or  myself  with  my 
keys,  can  I?  What's  the  use  of  keeping  those?  " 

"  We  especially  want  to  keep  those,"  Napier 
replied  quickly,  a  mere  shot  in  the  air  suggested 
by  the  man's  anxiety. 

"  Car-r-ramba! "  Villabosa   cried,   losing  all 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          115 

control  of  himself  and  leaping  at  Gordon,  hand 
cuffed  arms  upraised.  "  I  won't  stand  for  it !  I 
won't!  I 

It  is  neither  a  difficult  nor  an  especially  credit 
able  task  for  two  powerful  young  men  to  subdue 
a  middle-aged  ruffian  who  is  handcuffed.  They 
did  not  even  have  to  hurt  him.  When  the  excite 
ment  was  over,  Napier  took  up  the  flat  key  that 
seemingly  had  precipitated  the  outbreak  and 
studied  it  carefully. 

"  A  padlock,  and  a  very  up-to-date  and  rather 
high-priced  padlock.  Where  is  that  padlock?  " 
he  asked. 

Villabosa's  reply  was  in  muttered  Spanish  and 
clearly  both  profane  and  insulting. 

"  He  mustn't  get  a  chance  to  communicate 
with  his  friends,"  Napier  whispered  to  Gordon, 
whom  he  had  drawn  into  a  corner  after  the  en 
velope  with  Villabosa's  belongings  was  safely 
locked  in  the  desk.  "  Can  it  be  arranged  at  the 
station?  What  sort  of  people  are  the  police 
here?" 

*  They  work  with  us  very  nicely ;  we  have 
never  had  any  trouble  getting  whatever  assist 
ance  from  them  we  asked.  I  don't  think  there 
will  be  any  difficulty  keeping  him  incommunicado 
there.  You'll  go  over  with  us,  won't  you? 
Then  I'll  have  the  car  take  me  home  and  drop 
you  at  the  Bonham." 

They  came  up  to  police  headquarters  through 
a  narrow,  dark  street  at  the  rear,  and  Gordon  left 
Napier  with  the  prisoner  while  he  disappeared 


116          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

into  the  building.  When  he  came  out  he  said,  as 
much  for  Villabosa's  information  as  for  Napier's, 
"  I  wanted  to  be  sure  there  weren't  any  visitors 
sitting  around  the  guard  room  who  might  know 
him.  There  aren't." 

Villabosa  got  the  implication  of  this.  "  You 
cant  lock  me  up  secretly,  and  not  let  any  one 
know  I  am  here,"  he  protested. 

"  Think  so? " 

1  You  have  to  put  my  name  on  the  police  book 
— the  blotter — and  anybody  has  a  right  to  see 
that  blotter.  You  have  to.  The  law  says  so. 
A  man  can't  be  locked  up  without  his  name  on 
the  blotter.  The  police  have  to  write  it." 

"So  they  do,"  Gordon  replied.  "Your 
knowledge  of  Texas  law  is  excellent.  All  right. 
We'll  go  in." 

At  the  desk  Gordon  addressed  the  sergeant, 
with  whom  it  was  plain  he  had  already  discussed 
the  matter: 

"  We  want  this  man  held  for  us,  please.  His 
name  is  John  Doe." 

"  The  name  is  Salvador  Villabosa,"  the  pris 
oner  declared  loudly. 

"  John  Doe,  alias  Salvador  Villabosa,"  Gor 
don  amended,  and  busied  himself  removing  the 
handcuffs. 

The  sergeant  wrote.  Villabosa,  craning  his 
neck  to  watch,  cried  out  excitedly.  "  Here,  Mis 
ter  Sergeant,  I  told  you  my  name  is  Villabosa. 
Salvador  Villabosa.  You  haven't  written  it." 

"  '  John  Doe,  alias.     For  Federal,'  "  the  ser- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          117 

geant  read  complacently  from  what  he  had  writ 
ten.  "  That's  fair  enough,  isn't  it?  Do  you  ex 
pect  an  officer  to  clutter  up  the  blotter  with  all  a 
man's  aliases? " 

"  When  he  wants  to  talk  to  us,  get  us  word, 
will  you?  "  Gordon  said.  "  It  isn't  necessary  for 
him  to  send  messages  to  any  one  else." 

"  Sure,"  agreed  the  sergeant.  "  If  he  talks 
with  anybody,  it's  you." 

"  But  I  demand  a  lawyer,"  Villabosa  shouted. 
"  I  demand  to  have  word  sent  to  my  friends. 
You  can't  hold  me  like  this." 

"  Number  257,"  remarked  the  sergeant  to 
the  officer  who  stood  at  the  prisoner's  shoul 
der,  waiting  to  take  him  to  his  lodging 
place,  and  entered  the  cell  number  against  the 
name  on  the  blotter.  "  Come  on,  hombre"  the 
officer  said. 

"  But  hold  on !     Wait !     I  demand " 

"  On  our  way,"  the  turnkey  interrupted  and 
took  Villabosa  by  the  arm.  The  prisoner  took 
one  step,  held  back,  and  turned. 

"  I  know  what  my  rights  are,  Mister  Ser 
geant,"  he  threatened.  "  And  I  propose  to  have 
them." 

"  Sure,"  the  sergeant  agreed,  with  per 
fect  good  temper.  "  Sure  you'll  have  'em. 
Su-u-ure!"  He  waited  until  the  prisoner  had 
passed  out  of  hearing.  "  If  anybody  should  find 
out  he  was  here  and  come  around  beefin'  about  it 
and  demandin'  to  see  him,  I  refer  'em  to  you 
people,  as  usual." 


118          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Pass  the  buck  to  us,"  Gordon  replied.  "  We 
take  the  responsibility." 

Napier  walked  into  the  nearly  deserted  Bon- 
ham  lobby,  ten  minutes  later,  and  called  for  his 
room  key.  There  was  a  slip  of  paper  in  the  box 
with  it.  It  read: 

"  Mr.  Napier,  please  call  Alamo  1266  as  soon 
as  he  comes  in.  Important." 

"  How  long  has  this  been  here?  Do  you 
know?  "  he  asked  the  clerk. 

The  man  shook  his  head  regretfully.  "  I 
don't  recall  it's  being  put  in  your  box  since 
I  came  on,"  he  said.  "  Before  midnight,  I 
guess." 

As  soon  as  he  had  reached  his  room  Napier 
called  the  number. 

"  Hotel  Edgemont,"  a  sleepy  voice  replied. 

"  Some  one  there  left  a  call  for  Mr.  Napier,  at 
the  Bonham.  Asked  me  to  call  your  number  as 
soon  as  I  came  in." 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  the  operator  languidly  ad 
vised,  and  a  moment  later  he  heard  her  say, 
'  There's  your  party  at  the  Bonham." 

"  Hello,"  came  in  Miss  Glenn's  voice. 

"  This  is  Julian  Napier.     Did  you  call  me?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  Mr.  Napier,  but It  was  a 

long  time  ago.  It  must  be  after  one  o'clock, 
isn't  it? " 

"  Yes.  Quite  a  little  after.  I  know  it  is  ter 
ribly  late,  but  the  note  I  found  said  to  get  you  as 
soon  as  I  came  in." 

"  Thank  you  for  calling,  but I  couldn't 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

possibly  see  you  to-night.  Not  at  this  hour. 
You  see  I  'phoned  you  about  eleven." 

"  I'm  sorry  I  woke  you  up,"  Napier  apolo 
gized.  "  There  wasn't  anything  on  the  memo 
randum  to  show  what  time  the  call  came." 

"  I — I  haven't  been  asleep."  She  hesitated, 
and  then  went  on,  "  I  wanted  to  see  you.  There 

was  a  matter There  is  a  matter  I  want  to 

talk  to  you  about.  It  is  an  imposition  to  ask 
you,  but  I  want I  need  a  little  advice." 

"  I  am  at  your  service  whenever  you  wish.  At 
what  time  to-morrow  shall  I  call?  " 

"  Really,  Mr.  Napier,  I  feel  embarrassed  ask 
ing  you  to  take  any  interest  in  my  affairs,  but  if 
it  isn't  too  much  trouble " 

"  It  is  no  trouble  whatever.  It  will  be  a  real 
pleasure."  The  words  sounded  sincere,  because 
they  were. 

"  Then  at  ten  o'clock,  if  that  is  convenient." 

"  I'll  send  up  my  name  as  near  ten  o'clock  as  I 
can  get  there." 

"  No,"  the  girl  objected.  "  Don't  send  up 
your  name.  I  will  be  in  the  lobby  or  the  little 
lounge  that  opens  just  off  of  it.  If  I  am  not 
there,  would  you  mind  waiting  until  I  come?  I 
would  rather,  if  you  don't  mind,  that  you  didn't 
send  word  up  to  our  rooms." 

He  promised,  she  thanked  him  and  said  good 
night,  and  he  replaced  the  receiver.  As  he  went 
about  his  preparations  for  bed — first  solicitously 
surveying  his  damaged  head  in  the  bathroom  mir 
ror,  and  discovering  with  satisfaction  that  it 


120          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

didn't  look  anywhere  near  as  bad  as  it  felt — He 
tried  to  imagine  what  she  wanted  to  advise  with 
him  about,  or  to  confess.  He  admitted  to  him 
self  that  he  didn't  like  that  word  "  confess  "  in 
connection  with  Miss  Glenn,  and  yet,  after  what 
he  had  seen 

She  didn't  want  her  father  to  know,  that  was 
plain  enough.  She  didn't  want  him  to  know 
even  that  Napier  was  calling  at  the  hotel.  Her 
voice,  now  that  he  thought  of  it,  had  been  very 
discreetly  lowered  throughout  their  conversation. 
Her  father,  if  the  door  to  his  room  were  closed, 
would  have  been  unable  to  make  out  what  she 
said,  even  if  he  could  have  heard  her  at  all. 

After  he  had  convinced  his  subconscious  self 
that  this  was  a  night  during  which  he  must  lie 
exclusively  on  his  back  and  left  side,  because  the 
northeast  corner  of  his  head  could  touch  the  pil 
low  only  at  the  cost  of  great  discomfort,  Napier 
went  to  sleep  promptly  enough.  His  last 
thought  but  one  was  wonder  as  to  how  she  had 
ever  first  got  mixed  up  with  such  a  rotten  crowd. 
His  last  thought,  after  impending  sleep  began  to 
twist  his  imaginings  into  absurd  channels  and 
switch  his  reasonings  beyond  sensible  control,  was 
that  a  girl  with  eyes  like  that  couldn't  possibly 
have  anything  to  confess. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ALTHOUGH  it  still  lacked  three  minutes  of  ten 
o'clock  when  Napier  turned  into  the  entrance  of 
the  Hotel  Edgemont,  Miss  Glenn  was  waiting 
for  him  in  the  lounge.  Except  for  her,  the  little 
room  was  unoccupied,  and  she  met  him  at  the 
door  and  led  him  to  chairs  in  the  further  corner. 

If  she  had  slept  less  than  usual  the  night  be 
fore,  he  thought  she  did  not  show  it.  Nor  did 
her  manner  show  signs  of  the  mental  disturbance 
that  her  summons  of  the  evening  before  had 
seemed  to  evidence.  Some  explanation  of  this, 
came  in  almost  her  first  sentence. 

"  It  was  so  good  of  you  to  come,"  she  told  him. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  how  hysterical  I  must 
have  seemed,  calling  you  at  all  hours  of  the  night. 
I  got  to  thinking,  and  it  seemed  as  if  I  simply 
had  to  talk  to  some  one.  Isn't  it  strange  how 
different  things  look  in  the  sunshine  of  the  morn 
ing  after?  " 

"  If  that  means  that  the  things  that  were  troub 
ling  you  have  disappeared,  let  us  be  thankful 
there  are  no  clouds  in  the  sky,"  he  said.  "  But  it 
was  no  trouble  to  come,  of  course.  Exactly  the 
opposite.  I  am  sorry  I  did  not  receive  your  mes 
sage  in  time  to  get  here  last  night." 

She  was  a  bit  embarrassed,  and  he  thought  she 


122          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

regretted  having  sent  for  him.  It  would  be  un 
grateful  as  well  as  discourteous,  however,  not  to 
give  him  any  inkling  of  what  she  had  wanted, 
even  though,  as  she  intimated,  her  morning  wor 
ries  were  not  as  great  as  they  had  seemed  in  the 
dark  hours.  She  set  out  to  explain: 

"  Do  you  know,  it  sounds  rather  absurd,  Mr. 
Napier,  but  I  haven't  any  friends — I  mean,  here 
in  San  Antonio.  Oh,  acquaintances,  of  course,'' 
— as  he  murmured  deprecatingly — "  but  no 
friends  that  I  could  go  to  in  an  emergency  and 
ask  to  help  me.  And  something  came  up " 

She  rather  groped  for  words  with  which  to  tell 
it,  while  he  waited,  willing  but  unable  to  make  it 
easier  for  her. 

"  I  was  a  little  frightened,  last  night.  A  little 
frightened  and  nervous.  I  thought  I  needed 
help.  Advice,  anyway.  And  the  only  person 
in  the  world  I  could  think  of  was  you.  That 
must  sound  strange,  considering  how  very  slight 
our  acquaintance  is,  but  I  had  the  feeling 

that Well,  I  have  traveled  a  great  deal, 

you  know.  I  have  met  a  good  many  people.  I 
thought,  if  I  were  to  ask  you  to  help  me,  you 
would  be  the  sort  who  would  do  what  you  could. 
And  not  misunderstand." 

There  was  nothing  of  coquetry  in  her  manner; 
she  was  looking  him  squarely  in  the  face  and  talk 
ing  seriously.  "  Man  to  man  "  was  the  phrase 
that  came  into  his  mind  to  describe  her  attitude. 
And  he  did  not  think  she  was  trying  to  flatter 
him. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          123 

"  If  there  is  anything  that  I  can  do "  he 

assured  her,  but  she  shook  her  head  thoughtfully. 

"  I  don't  think  there  is,  this  morning.  I  can't 
even  say  there  was  anything  in  particular  I 
thought  you  could  do  last  night.  It  was  just 
that  I  was  nervous  and  excited,  and  I  had  to  talk 
to  somebody." 

"  Your  father  wasn't  here?  " 

Instantly  came  into  her  face  the  expression  that 
he  had  seen  before  when  Captain  Glenn  was  men 
tioned.  "  My  father,"  she  said,  "  was He 

is  not  well.  There  were  reasons It  hap 
pens  to  be  a  matter  that  I  cannot  talk  over  with 
him."  As  though  she  had  said  a  little  more  than 
she  intended,  she  made  an  amendment.  "  I 
wouldn't  want  him  to  know  I  was  worried.  His 
health 

Napier,  as  she  left  the  sentence  unfinished, 
suggested  sympathetically: 

"  If  you  feel  like  telling  me  anything  about 
what  is  troubling  you " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  The  foolish  troubles  of 
night,"  she  said.  "  They  do  not  sound  real  in  the 
daytime.  One  can  get  terribly  worked  up  over 
small  things  after  going  to  bed  in  the  dark  and 
giving  way  to  nerves.  Giving  way  to  nerves 
always  has  been  and  always  will  be  a  woman's 
privilege." 

Napier  did  not  believe  Miss  Glenn  was  subject 
to  nerves,  and  he  felt  positive  she  had  not  been  in 
bed  before  she  called  him  at  eleven  o'clock. 

She  did  not  seem  quite  satisfied  with  the  ex-* 


124          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

planation  she  had  made;  perhaps  she  felt  she 
owed  him  a  little  more  confidence  under  the  cir 
cumstances. 

"  I  actually  felt,  last  night,"  she  said,  slowly 
and  seriously,  "  that  I  was  in  danger,  in  a  sense. 
It  was  quite  silly,  of  course,  but  I  had  the  feeling. 
And  it  seemed  to  me  I  must  have  some  one  I 
could  call  on  if  the  thing  that  I  thought  was 
threatening  ever  really  came  to  pass." 

'  Would  it  be  too  much  to  ask  what  sort  of 
danger? " 

"  I'm  afraid  it  would.  If  I  were  to  tell  you, 
you  would  think  I  had  been  reading  thrillers.  I 
might  have  told  you  if  you  had  come  last  night, 
although  I  think  more  likely  my  nerves  would 
have  calmed  down  once  you  had  arrived  and  I 
would  have  reneged,  apologized,  and  sent  you 
home  again.  But  in  this  broad  daylight — it 
would  sound  perfectly  outrageous."  She  laughed 
lightly.  "  This  is  San  Antonio,  United  States  of 
America,  in  the  Twentieth  Century." 

"  There  can  be  dangers,  even  in  the  United 
States  of  America  and  the  Twentieth  Century," 
he  said  quietly.  "  Not  as  many  as  there  can  be 
in  the  East,  or  as  there  could  be  in  other  cen 
turies,  perhaps,  but  this  place  and  time  isn't  free 
from  them." 

"  If  I  didn't  know  something  of  the  East  I 
shouldn't  have  been  as  frightened  as  I  was  last 
night,"  she  said  impulsively.  "  It  is  because  I 
have  seen  there  what  people  who  propose  to  have 
their  own  way,  and  are  in  the  habit  of  getting 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          125 

it "  Seemingly  this  sentence  was  bound 

farther  than  she  wanted  to  go,  for  she  halted  it 
abruptly.  "  I'm  still  a  little  upset,  I  guess.  It 
is  awfully  good  of  you  to  be  willing  to  let  me 
make  an  exhibition  of  temperament  so  patiently." 

"  If  it  shouldn't  be  temperament,"  Napier  said. 
"  If  it  should  turn  out  that  there  really  was  some 
thing  to  worry  about,  I  expect  to  be  in  San  An 
tonio  some  little  time,  and  I  shall  be  at  the  Bon- 
ham — unless  I  am  able,  later,  to  get  rooms  here 
at  the  Edgemont.  They  didn't  have  any  when  I 
was  here  yesterday." 

"  That's  awfully  good  of  you,"  she  assured 
him,  and  seemed  disposed  to  dismiss  the  matter, 
but  he  was  unwilling  to  let  the  subject  drop  with 
out  adding  a  word.  He  spoke  earnestly: 

"  I  think  you  really  have  a  bit  of  trouble.  And 
I  am  sincere  when  I  say  I  would  like  to  have  you 
call  on  me  if  there  is  anything  I  can  do.  It  isn't 
merely  a  polite  promise." 

"  What  makes  you  think  so? "  she  demanded, 
ignoring  the  latter  part  of  his  speech. 

"  I,  too,  have  lived  in  the  East." 

The  quick  glance  that  she  threw  him  told  him 
she  wondered  if  there  were  anything  significant 
in  his  remark;  if  he  could  possibly  know  that  her 
trouble  might  have  an  Oriental  side.  As  his  face 
showed  only  sympathy — and,  perhaps,  admira 
tion — she  apparently  dismissed  the  thought  as 
unreasonable.  But  from  the  seriousness  with 
which  she  sat  for  a  moment  in  silence,  while  he 
tactfully  waited,  he  knew  she  was  turning  her 


126          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

problem  over  in  her  mind,  perhaps  readjusting 
some  former  decision.  When  she  looked  up,  her 
eyes  rested  on  his  frankly. 

"  I  am  going  to  be  quite  honest,"  she  said. 
"  It  wasn't  all  a  matter  of  getting  nervous  in  the 
dark.  I  made  up  my  mind,  after  thinking  it 
over  this  morning,  not  to  say  anything  to  you  of 
the  things  I  would  have  said  if  you  had  been  able 
to  get  here  last  night,  and  I  am  not  going  to  say 
all  of  them,  even  now.  But  I  am  going  to  tell 
you  that  I  am  terribly  worried  over  something 
that  may  turn  out  very  seriously.  I  really  may 
need  somebody  to  help  me — badty.  I  can't  tell 
you  what  the  trouble  is.  There  is  a  possibility — 
I  think  maybe  a  probability — that  it  won't  corne 
to  a  head  at  all.  But  if  it  should,  I  would  be  all 
alone  here." 

She  seemed  unconscious  that  her  words  implied 
the  absence  of  her  father,  and  he  wondered  if  the 
danger  that  threatened  her  was  indirect,  by  being 
aimed  at  him.  He  opened  his  mouth  to  urge  her 
to  tell  him,  in  personal  confidence,  what  she 
feared.  He  closed  it  again  as  he  realized  that  he 
could  not  accept,  in  confidence,  what  might  prove 
to  be  a  confession.  His  reply,  warm  and  sincere 
as  it  really  was,  nevertheless  contained  a  hidden 
reserve. 

"  If  you  should  be  in  trouble  and  should  call 
upon  me,  I  want  you  to  believe  that  I  would  do 
everything  to  help  you  that  was  in  my  power." 

"  If  I  am,  I  will."  She  smiled,  trying  to  ease 
the  tension.  "  I  shall  get  word  to  you  the  first 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

thing.  I  shall  say,  *  Dear  Mr.  Napier;  it's  hap 
pened.'  ' 

"  And  I,  to  use  the  expressive  language  of 
Texas,  shall  *  come  a-runninY  "  he  assured  her. 
"  Even  if  it  is  in  the  most  depressing  hours  of  the 
night,  when  our  spirits  get  lowest." 

"  It  probably  will  be  in  those  dark  hours,  if  you 
ever  get  it,"  she  declared.  "  If  I  were  to  wait 
until  daylight,  I'd  finally  find  there  wasn't  really 

any  danger,  and "  She  broke  off  and 

dropped  the  badinage.  "  That  isn't  so,"  she 
said,  serious  again.  "  If  I  send  for  you  at  all, 
I'm  afraid  I'll  really  need  you.  You  will  for 
give  me  if  I  don't  tell  you  any  more  about  it, 
won't  you?  I  can't  really  understand  why  I 
have  told  you  as  much  as  I  have,  or  why  I  tele 
phoned  you.  We  are  practically  strangers." 

"  I  have  known  you  eight  years." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  You  do  not  know  me 
at  all.  And  I  don't  know  you,  except  that  you 
are  an  American  man.  One  learns  to  appreciate 
American  men,  the  right  kind  of  American  men, 
after  meeting  so  many  foreigners — as  in  the 
East." 

He  wondered  if  she  was  thinking  of  Orientals 
in  the  East,  or  Orientals  transplanted  to  the 
West.  It  came  to  him  how  little  any  foreigner, 
either  Oriental  or  Continental,  would  or  could 
have  understood  her  frank  appeal  to  him  for 
help  in  an  hour  of  need.  He  did  not  take  too 
much  credit  to  himself  for  her  confidence;  she 
was  a  shrewd,  sophisticated  young  woman  who 


128          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

had  seen  enough  of  life  to  gauge  men  more  or  less 
and  pick  out  those  who  were  probably  ordinarily 
decent.  Of  course  he  felt  pleased  and  compli 
mented;  who  would  not?  He  looked  at  her  ear 
nestly  and  honestly  and  said,  "  If  you  should 
need  me,  I'll  try  to  come  up  to  specifications." 

"  I'm  really  very  sorry  I  can't  ask  you  to  call 
on  me  formally,"  she  said.  "  It  seems  so  absurd, 
my  telling  you  all  this  and  asking  you  to  run  to 
my  assistance  if  something  should  happen  that 
probably  won't — and  yet  not  asking  you  to  come 
and  see  me.  But  you  will  forgive  me.  As  I 
told  you  yesterday,  my  father " 

He  rose.  "  Let  us  hope  he  will  soon  be  bet 
ter,"  he  said.  "  When  he  is " 

'  You  know  I'd  like  to  have  you,"  she  assured 
him.  He  felt  certain  she  spoke  with  perfect  sin 
cerity. 

He  went  back  to  the  Bonham,  found  no  mail 
or  telegrams,  and  went  out  to  stroll  about  the 
streets,  not  yet  crowded  but  beginning  to  be  filled 
with  sight-seers,  mostly  out-of-town  people  in 
their  best  city-visiting  clothes,  wandering  rather 
aimlessly  but  with  a  determined  holiday  spirit. 
At  noon  he  took  lunch  where  he  happened  to  be, 
in  a  little  dairy  restaurant.  He  was  sauntering, 
afterward,  through  Alamo  Plaza,  his  mind  re 
volving  theories  which  refused  to  work  out  at  all 
satisfactorily,  when  his  attention  f ocussed  sharply 
on  the  figure  of  Madame  Lucia  Frezzi,  just  dis 
appearing  into  the  entrance  of  the  Plaza  Hotel. 

It  was  only  a  glimpse,  but  he  knew  he  was  not 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          129 

mistaken.  He  crossed  the  plaza  and  went  into 
the  hotel,  stopping  at  the  cigar  counter  and 
glancing  at  magazines  on  the  news  stand.  After 
a  bit,  not  seeing  her,  he  looked  into  the  several 
public  parlors,  and  finally  decided,  unless  she  was 
above  the  first  floor,  that  she  must  be  in  one  of 
the  dining-rooms. 

Several  people  were  ahead  of  him  as  he  came 
up  to  check  his  hat,  and  perhaps  ten  minutes  had 
elapsed  since  he  first  saw  her  before  he  stood  in 
the  main  dining-room,  surveyed  the  tables, 
and  informed  a  grand-mannered  head  waiter  that 
he  was  looking  for  friends. 

She  was  there,  facing  him  at  a  side  table,  and 
there  was  a  man  across  the  cloth  from  her. 
Napier  could  see  only  his  shoulders  and  the  back 
of  his  head.  Obviously  they  were  just  beginning 
lunch,  and  there  would  be  ample  time  before  they 
finished  to  telephone  for  an  agent  from  the 
customs  office  and  have  her  followed.  He  was 
about  to  turn  and  leave  the  room,  with  a  manner 
implying  that  the  friends  for  whom  he  was 
searching  were  not  present,  when  Madame 
Frezzi  suddenly  looked  toward  the  door  and  saw 
him. 

Her  face  lighted  with  pleased  recognition,  and 
she  smiled  cordially.  There  was  nothing  to  do 
but  look  equally  delighted  and  step  over  to  her 
table. 

"Mr.  Napier!"  she  exclaimed,  as  he  came 
within  hearing.  "  What  a  pleasure!  " 

As  she  half  rose  to  welcome  him,  her  com- 


130          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

panion  came  courteously  to  his  feet,  pushing  his 
chair  back,  and  stood,  napkin  in  hand  and  an 
amiable  smile  on  his  face,  waiting  to  be  presented. 
It  was  Kalat  Pasha. 


CHAPTER  XII 

"MR.  SASTANADA;  Mr.  Napier,"  she  intro 
duced  them.  Kalat  extended  a  friendly  hand 
and  bowed  gracefully.  "  Mr.  Napier  and  I  met 
in  Paris,"  she  told  him.  "  Four — five  years 
ago." 

"  Have  you  lunched,  Mr.  Napier? "  Kalat 
asked  in  English  that  was  precise  and  a  trifle  too 
correct.  "  Won't  you  sit  down  with  us?  "  With 
out  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  signalled  to  a  hovering 
waiter,  who  brought  a  third  chair. 

"  Thank  you,"  Napier  said,  dropping  into  the 
seat.  "  I'm  sorry  I  can't  have  lunch,  but  I  al 
ready  have  an  appointment.  It  was  to  have  been 
here — at  least,  that  is  the  way  the  message  was 
delivered — but  I  am  pretty  sure  he  said  the  St. 
Francis,  and  I  shall  have  to  go  over  there.  Tele 
phone  messages  taken  by  a  third  party " 

He  smiled  and  dismissed  his  annoyance.  "  It  is 
a  great  pleasure  to  see  you  again,"  he  told  Ma 
dame  Frezzi.  ;<  There  are  many  miles  between 
here  and  the  Rue  de  Varenne." 

"  I  have  been  in  the  United  States  some  little 
time,"  she  said.  "  But  I  have  always  put  off 
visiting  my  relatives  here  until  now.  They  told 
me  I  would  enjoy  the  Fiesta,  and  I  have.  It  is 
very  interesting,  isn't  it?  " 


132          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  As  distinctive,  in  its  way,  as  the  Mardi 
Gras,"  he  agreed. 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  Mardi  Gras." 

"  Its  atmosphere  is  French,  of  course,  while 
the  Fiesta  San  Jacinto  is  essentially  Spanish.  I 
always  enjoy  these  carnivals.  I  am  especially 
impressed  with  the  fact  that  they  are  only  pos 
sible  in  cities  where  there  is  much  Latin  blood 
and  a  Latin  tradition.  Any  attempt  to  accom 
plish  a  carnival  spirit  like  this  in  a  Northern  city 
in  the  United  States  would  be  a  dreary  failure." 

"  We  Latins  know  how  to  play,"  Kalat  put  in. 

"  Mr.  Sastanada  is  a  fellow  countryman  of 
mine,"  Madame  Frezzi  explained. 

"  Ah?  "  Napier  remarked,  politely.  "  From 
what  part  of  Italy?  " 

"  Oh,  but  you  are  not  remembering  me  as  well 
as  I  hoped  you  did,"  the  lady  cried,  "  or  else  you 
were  misinformed.  I  am  Spanish." 

"  Perhaps  I  thought  the  name  was  Italian." 

"  It  is.  My  husband  was  of  Italian  blood." 
From  the  tense  of  the  verb,  Napier  took  it  the 
husband  who  once  was  conveniently  absent  was 
now  conveniently  deceased.  "  My  relatives  here 
are  Spanish,  although  they  have  lived  for  a  num 
ber  of  years  in  Mexico.  *  Had  lived '  would  be 
a  better  way  of  saying  it,  because  they  have  been 
in  San  Antonio  since  the  revolutions  began. 
They  were  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  Cientificos." 

"You  are,  like  us,  a  tourist?"  Kalat  asked. 
"  Or  have  you  business  interests  here?  " 

"  I  am  a  visitor." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          133 

"  Mr.  Napier  is  in  business  in  New  York — or 
was,"  Madame  Frezzi  said.  "  I  am  sure  I  recall 
that  it  was  mentioned  by  some  one,  the  first  time 
we  met." 

"  Your  memory  is  better  than  mine  was  as  to 
your  nationality,"  Napier  laughed.  "  I  was — 
and  am." 

"  In  what  business?"  Kalat  asked.  His  in 
terest  was  merely  polite,  the  interest  of  one  who 
knows  that  some  Americans  like  to  discuss  their 
commercial  concerns. 

"  Not  a  very  active  one  during  the  past  few 
years,"  Napier  said.  "  Oriental  importations." 
He  took  out  a  business  card  and  laid  it  before 
Kalat. 

He  looked  at  his  watch,  with  an  apology;  he 
must  have  time,  before  they  finished  luncheon,  to 
telephone  the  collector's  office. 

"  I  hope  you  can  come  and  see  me,"  Madame 
Frezzi  said.  "  I  haven't  a  card  with  the  address, 
of  course,  but  if  you  would  make  a  note  of  it — I 
am  at  Number  311  Chiromoya  Street.  I  am 
always  at  home  Wednesdays,  after  three.  This 
has  been  no  meeting  at  all.  Do  come." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to,"  he  told  her,  and 
noted  the  address. 

"  I  hope  we  also  shall  meet  again,"  Kalat  said, 
as  Napier  rose  to  leave. 

"  I  hope  so."  He  said  the  proper  things  to 
Madame  Frezzi  and  left  them. 

From  a  pay  station  across  the  plaza  he  got 
Collector  Lamb's  office  and  was  so  fortunate  as 


134          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

to  find  Gordon  back  from  lunch  and  with  no  im 
portant  work  in  hand.  Guardedly  he  told  him 
what  he  wanted.  "  I  shall  be  inside  the  doorway 
of  the  drug  store  just  across  from  the  main  en 
trance,"  he  said,  "  and  when  he  comes  out  I  will 
shake  out  my  handkerchief.  He  is  rather  stout, 
quite  dark,  smooth-shaven  and  exceedingly  well 
dressed  in  a  light  suit ;  there  isn't  one  chance  in  a 
thousand  that  two  men  of  that  description  will 
come  out  together.  If  there  should,  however, 
make  some  sign  with  your  hand  toward  one  of 
them  and  one  shake  of  the  handkerchief  means 
1  yes';  two,  'no.'" 

"  O.  K.,"  said  Gordon.  "  And  I'm  to  stick  to 
him  till  further  notice?  " 

"  If  you  please.  I  will  come  over  to  the  office 
as  soon  as  you  have  got  started,  of  course,  and 
talk  it  over  with  Mr.  Lamb.  If  he  has  some 
thing  else  he  wants  you  to  do,  I  will  ask  him  to 
have  you  relieved.  If  things  break  so  you  can, 
you  might  telephone  in  later  and  ask  him." 

"  That  won't  be  necessary,  I  know,"  Gordon 
said.  "  There  isn't  anything  in  the  works  at  this 
minute  that  he  thinks  half  as  important  as  your 
affair.  All  right.  I'll  be  over  just  as  soon  as  I 
can  get  there." 

Napier  saw  the  wiry  young  man  arrive  and 
take  up  a  position  that,  without  being  conspicu 
ous,  commanded  both  entrances  to  the  hotel  and 
the  drug  store  in  whose  busy  doorway  he  waited. 
He  saw  Kalat  and  Madame  Frezzi,  after  a  while, 
come  leisurely  out  and  move  up  the  plaza,  afoot, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          135 

and  he  shook  his  handkerchief.  Gordon  disap 
peared,  strolling  aimlessly  behind  them. 

He  went  over  to  the  Federal  Building  at  once 
and  saw  Collector  Lamb. 

"  Please  excuse  me  for  seeming  to  give  your 
men  orders,"  he  said,  "  but  you  were  out,  and  the 
matter  couldn't  wait.  It  was  Kalat  himself." 

The  collector  nearly  permitted  himself  to  show 
excitement. 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 

"I  sat  for  fifteen  minutes  nearer  to  him  than 
I  am  to  you."  Napier  recounted  the  circum 
stances  of  the  meeting. 

"  He  asked  your  business,  you  say.  Do  you 
suppose  he  knows? " 

"  I  don't  think  so.  It  is  possible  Madame 
Frezzi  might  know — she  might  have  learned  in 
Paris — and,  of  course,  she  could  have  tipped  him 
while  I  was  crossing  the  room.  But  if  he  had 
known,  I  think  he  would  have  said  more  about 
his  presence  here  in  San  Antonio.  He  would 
have  explained.  The  fact  that  he  had  no  reason 
to  suppose  I  knew  him  wouldn't  have  altered 
that.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  explained  nothing. 
He  didn't  even  refer  to  it,  except  to  intimate  that 
he  was  a  tourist.  In  other  words,  he  acted  ex 
actly  as  a  Spanish  friend  of  Madame  Frezzi's, 
who  was  anxious  to  be  courteous  to  one  of  her  old 
acquaintances  but  had  no  other  interest  whatever 
in  him,  would  have  acted." 

:<  What  is  the  connection  between  those  two?  " 

Napier  shook  his  head.     "  That  remains  to  be 


136          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

learned.  If  we  could  get  a  line  on  her,  it  might 
help  us.  When  I  telegraphed  Washington  Mon 
day  night,  asking  for  information  regarding 
Captain  Glenn,  I  also  asked  them  to  see  what 
they  could  dig  up  about  Madame  Frezzi.  They 
have  passed  the  request  on  to  our  people  in  Paris ; 
it  is  almost  time  to  get  a  reply.  She  and  Kalat 
could  have  met  for  the  first  time  right  here  in  San 
Antonio,  within  the  past  week." 

Lamb  considered  this  and  nodded  to  its  possi 
bility.  "  And  she  could  really  believe  that  his 
name  is  Sastanada,"  he  added. 

"  She  could,  and  yet  I  doubt  it.  It  isn't  likely 
she  dropped  her  work — whatever  it  was — when 
the  war  began,  and  secret  agents  began  to  be 
really  valuable.  No.  Before  I  felt  certain  that 
her  presence  here  is  entirely  due  to  a  desire  to 
visit  Spanish  relatives  and  witness  the  carnival, 
I  would  want  some  evidence  beyond  her  sim 
ple  say-so.  Which,  naturally,  I  shall  try  to 
get." 

"  It's  good  progress,  anyway.  Mighty  good 
progress.  If  you  should  happen  to  be  able  to 
connect  this  alleged  Spaniard  Sastanada  with 
any  of  the  Mexicans  who  are  mixed  up  with  these 
Chinks "  He  broke  off.  "  I  was  so  inter 
ested  in  what  you  had  to  tell  me  that  I  almost  for 
got  I  had  something  to  tell  you,"  he  said.  "  The 
chief  of  police  telephoned  a  few  minutes  before 
you  came  to  say  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me  about 
this  fellow  Villabosa  that  you  and  Gordon  locked 
up  over  at  headquarters,  last  night.  That  was  a 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          137 

good  job,  too;  Gordon  told  me  about  it.  How 
is  your  head? " 

"  Sore,  but  not  troublesome,  if  I  take  pains  in 
adjusting  my  hat.  I  have  been  so  busy  to-day 
I've  hardly  had  time  to  think  about  it.  What 
has  happened  regarding  Villabosa?  Is  he  ready 
to  talk? " 

"  I  don't  think  so;  the  chief  didn't  intimate  it, 
anyway.  He  was  a  little  careful  about  what  he 
said  over  the  'phone;  he  didn't  mention  Villa- 
bosa's  name  at  all;  I  took  it  for  granted  some 
body  was  in  hearing,  or  perhaps  he  didn't  feel 
sure  of  who  might  have  been  listening  in  some 
where.  He  said  he  was  coming  over  this  way 
and  would  drop  in  to  see  me.  He  ought  to  be 
here  pretty  soon." 

"  Police  chiefs  don't  always  take  that  much 
trouble  for  the  Federal  outfits." 

"  This  one  does.  He  sees  things  from  our  end 
as  well  as  the  police  end ;  he  used  to  be  in  the  Fed 
eral  service  himself,  in  the  D.  J." 

Announced  by  a  clerk,  only  a  few  moments 
later,  the  chief  came  in  and  was  introduced  to 
Napier. 

"  You  must  be  the  fellow  who  stumbled  over 
that  Angel  Puenta  over  on  the  West  Side,  night 
before  last,"  was  his  opening  comment,  when  the 
ceremony  of  shaking  hands  and  lighting  the  in 
evitable  Southwestern  cigarettes  had  been  con 
cluded. 

"  I  was.     How  did  you  know?  " 

"  Burlen    described    you.     When    you    get 


138          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

through  with  this  case  you're  on  now,  I  wish 
you'd  take  a  little  vacation  from  your  regular  job 
and  find  out  for  my  department  who  killed  that 
Mex." 

"  Aren't  the  detectives  making  headway? " 
Lamb  asked. 

"  If  they  are  they're  in  reverse  gear,"  the  chief 
declared.  "  They  know  less  about  it  now  than 
they  did  right  after  it  happened."  He  grinned 
amiably.  "  Right  after  it  happened  they  knew 
all  about  it." 

"  If  I  fall  over  any  evidence  as  I  fell  over 
Puenta,  I'll  try  to  help  you  get  the  murderer," 
Napier  smiled.  "  Did  they  ever  find  the  knife?  " 

"  Nary  sign  of  it." 

"  If  I  had  been  the  killer,  I  would  have  thrown 
it  away,"  Napier  said  positively.  "  Once  he 
started  to  escape  through  that  alley,  he  took  a 
chance  of  meeting  some  one  at  the  further  end, 
with  no  opportunity  to  turn  back.  He  wouldn't 
hide  the  knife  in  his  clothes,  and  get  them  blood 
stained,  and  the  chances  he  was  taking  if  he 

carried  a  knife  in  his  hand If  he  didn't  get 

rid  of  it,  he  was  a  fool." 

"  Well,  nobody  seems  to  have  seen  him  coming 
out  of  the  alley,"  the  chief  said  dryly.  "  And 
whoever  he  met,  after  that,  it  wasn't  a  police 


man." 


He  stooped  to  discard  the  end  of  his  cigarette. 
"  What  I  came  over  for,"  he  said,  "  was  to  tell 
you  that  this  pock-marked  Mex  that  you've 
locked  up  over  in  our  hotel  is  certainly  anxious 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          130 

to  get  word  to  his  friends.  Ever  hear  of  Pedro 
Flores  of  Eagle  Pass?" 

"  Never,"  Napier  replied.     "  Who  is  he?  " 

"  Search  me!  He  is  this  prisoner's  one  best 
bet,  I  gather.  This  Villabosa — that's  his  name, 
isn't  it? " 

"  Yes." 

"  He  said  it  was;  I  thought  he  was  telling  the 
truth.  The  blotter,  you  know,  says  just  '  John 
Doe,  alias.'  Well,  this  Villabosa  is  making  a 
good  deal  of  a  holler.  He  seems  mighty  set  on 
having  somebody  find  out  where  he  is  so  they  can 
start  habeas  corpus  proceedings.  Thus  far  he 
hasn't  succeeded  in  getting  any  word  out,  so  far 
as  I  know — I'm  pretty  sure  of  it — but  I'm  not 
sure  he  can't,  sooner  or  later.  We've  got  as  good 
policemen  as  any  town — but  he  is  a  good  prom- 
iser.  He  might  find  one  who  needed  the  money, 
especially  as  we  wouldn't  ever  be  able,  probably, 
to  find  out  who  did  it." 

"  Trying  to  bribe  the  officers,  eh?  " 

"  Last  I  heard  he  was  up  to  a  hundred  dollars, 
and  giving  indications  that  he  would  go  higher. 
So  I  thought  I'd  better  come  over  and  see  you. 
Of  course,  I  don't  know  whether  it  is  vitally  im 
portant  to  your  case  that  nobody  shall  find  out 
he  is  there,  because  I  don't  know  what  the  case  is, 
but  I  gathered  from  what  Gordon  told  the  ser 
geant  that  you  would  prefer  his  friends  didn't  get 
to  him." 

"  We  very  much  prefer  it.  And  it  is  impor 
tant." 


140          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Maybe  I'd  better  tell  you  what  happened, 
and  you  can  make  your  own  decision.  When  I 
came  on,  this  morning,  I  saw  the  entry  on  the 
blotter  and  heard  about  the  request  that  he  be 
kept  incommunicado,  and  I  went  down,  natu 
rally,  to  look  him  over.  He  went  at  me,  hammer 
and  tongs,  the  minute  I  showed  up.  Demanding 
to  be  arraigned,  to  have  a  lawyer,  to  see  his 
friends.  Knows  quite  a  lot  of  law,  of  one  sort 
and  another.  Mentioned  the  Constitution  and 
statutes  of  the  State  of  Texas  pretty  fluently, 
and  when  I  came  away  I  think  he  was  beginning 
to  quote  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States. 
He  was  sure  anxious  to  get  word  somewhere, 
pronto.  Well,  that  was  all  there  was  of  that. 
About  an  hour  ago  one  of  the  officers — man 
named  Hathaway — happened  to  have  an  errand 
that  took  him  into  that  part  of  the  station." 

"  I  know  Hathaway,"  Lamb  said.  "  Good 
man,  isn't  he? " 

"  One  of  the  best  I've  got.  Well,  he  sung  out 
to  Hathaway  and  began  to  tell  him  his  troubles. 
Hathaway,  knowing  his  business,  went  over  and 
listened.  When  this  Villabosa  thought  he  had 
him  sympathetic,  he  came  across  with  his  big 
thought.  Hathaway  was  to  slip  out  and  send  a 
telegram  for  him,  and  the  honorarium  was  to  be 
fifty  dollars.  He  raised  it  to  seventy-five,  and 
just  before  Hathaway  left,  it  went  to  a  hundred. 
The  telegram  was  to  go  to  Pedro  Flores,  Eagle 
Pass,  and  it  was  merely  to  say  where  Villabosa 
was  and  that  he  was  incommunicado." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          141 

"  And  Flores,  naturally,  would  start  the  neces 
sary  machinery  moving,"  Napier  said.  "  I  won 
der  why  he  didn't  name  some  of  his  local  friends. 
He  has  some." 

"  That's  no  riddle  I  know  the  answer  of,"  the 
chief  said.  "  But  he  didn't  mention  a  single 
other  person  except  Flores.  Well,  that's  all 
there  is  to  it.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  intimate  that 
there  is  any  chance  over  in  that  establishment  of 
mine  for  a  leak,  but  a  hundred  dollars  is  a  lot  of 
money,  and  I  can't  draw  a  dead  line  and  keep 
policemen  from  getting  within  hearing  of  him. 
I  don't  think  any  of  them  would  fall  for  it,  but 
you  ought  to  know  how  the  situation  lies.  If  the 
important  thing  is  that  Villabosa  sha'n't  see  any 
body,  there  is  nothing  to  worry  about,  because  if 
any  of  his  friends  should  call,  we  would  refer 
them  to  you  and  let  it  go  at  that.  But  if  it  is 
vital  that  they  sha'n't  even  know  where  he  is — 
well,  there's  a  little  chance,  and  it  don't  get  us 
anywhere  to  ignore  it." 

"  It  is  important  that  nobody  shall  know  where 
he  is,"  Napier  said.  "  What  other  place  is  there 
where  he  could  be  kept?  " 

"  The  county  jail,  I  suppose,  if  they've  got 
room  and  the  sheriff  is  willing,  and  of  course 
he  would  be.  But  that  wouldn't  be  any  improve 
ment.  Human  nature  is  the  same  in  a  county 
jail  as  in  a  police  station,  and  a  hundred  dollars 
is  just  as  big." 

"  In  all  this  we  are  overlooking  the  most  vital 
thing.  We  not  only  need  to  keep  his  friends 


142          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

from  getting  at  him,  or  even  from  learning  where 
he  is,  but  he  has  got  to  be  made  to  talk,  if  pos 
sible.  If  I  haven't  doped  our  case  wrong,  he 
would  be  able  to  straighten  us  out  on  a  number 
of  things  that  we  need  to  know — badly." 

"  Of  course,  not  knowing  anything  about  the 
case "  the  chief  began,  when  Napier  inter 
rupted. 

"  I'm  going  to  tell  you  about  it,  and  I  hope  you 
won't  be  offended  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have 
held  out  some  evidence  on  your  department.  If 
I  had  met  you,  or  known  that  you  used  to  be  in 
the  Federal  Service,  I  would  have  gone  to  you 
first  thing  with  it,  but  having  been  in  the  service, 
you  know  yourself  how  it  is.  Some  police  de 
partments  are  all  right,  and  some  get  jealous." 

The  chief  admitted  this  with  a  gesture. 

Napier  rapidly  outlined  the  main  points  of  his 
case,  telling  of  his  quest  for  Kalat  Pasha  and  the 
diamonds  from  the  sultan's  sash.  He  spoke  of 
a  woman  who  smiled  at  him,  speaking  no  names 
and  not  mentioning  that  there  were  two,  and 
told  of  the  messenger  who  came  from  her  with  a 
summons,  of  the  orange  label  that  fluttered  from 
his  pocket  to  the  floor  of  the  Bonham  lobby,  and 
of  the  walk  to  the  Mexican  section  that  came  to 
an  abrupt  end  with  the  killing  of  his  guide. 

"  I  didn't  tell  the  officers  that  he  spoke  before 
he  died,  or  that  he  had  this  in  his  hand,"  Napier 
concluded,  producing  the  torn  fragment  of  the 
label.  "  Perhaps  you  won't  agree  with  me,  but 
from  my  viewpoint,  if  a  bunch  of  detectives  ever 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          143 

started  asking  Chinamen  questions  about  a  thing 
like  that,  the  case  would  be  gummed  in  five  min 
utes.  So  I  held  out  on  you." 

The  chief,  who  had  listened  without  interrupt 
ing,  nodded  good-naturedly.  "  I  don't  blame 
you,"  he  said.  "  I  would  have  done  the  same, 
when  I  was  in  the  D.  J." 

"  Our  cases  really  dovetail,"  Napier  went  on. 
"  If  we  find  the  diamonds,  we  stand  a  fair-to- 
middling  chance  of  finding  out  who  killed 
Puenta,  and  whatever  credit  there  may  be 
for  landing  him  will  go  to  you  people,  natu 
rally.  Public  credit,  as  you  know  from  your 
own  experience,  is  a  thing  we  fellows  don't 
seek." 

"  Fair  enough,"  the  chief  agreed.  "  Thanks." 
He  reached  over  to  the  collector's  box,  helped 
himself  to  a  cigarette,  and  lighted  it  thoughtfully. 
"  Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "  I  was  pretty  sure,  if 
I  came  over  here  this  afternoon,  you  would  be  on 
the  level  and  tell  me  about  Puenta." 

"  Did  you  think  we "  Lamb  began. 

The  chief  nodded.  "  You  see,  I  couldn't  help 
putting  two  and  two  together.  Here  was 
Puenta,  a  dope-fiend,  with  some  connection  with 
Chinks  that  are  supposed  to  be  tangled  up  in 
opium  smuggling;  all  of  them  are.  Here  was  a 
strange  special  agent  of  the  Treasury  Depart 
ment  in  town.  After  what?  Smugglers  wouldn't 
be  a  bad  guess,  seeing  as  that  is  what  you're  al 
ways  after.  Puenta  is  over  on  the  West  Side, 
heading  toward  the  Chinese  quarter,  and  gets 


144          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

killed.  You  happen  to  be  right  there  and  notify 
the  police.  Well " 

"  It  was  good  figuring  and  correct,"  Napier 
said. 

"  And  then,  besides  all  that,"  the  chief  grinned, 
"when  I  went  down  to  call  on  Villabosa,  this 
morning,  he  happened  to  say  that  it  was  impos 
sible  he  could  have  been  mixed  up  in  the  murder 
of  Puenta,  like  you  accused  him  last  night,  be 
cause  he  was  in  the  lobby  of  the  Bonham  all  the 
time  and  could  prove  it.  So  I  thought  I'd  come 
over  and  find  out." 

"  And  you  did,  very  artistically,"  Napier  re 
marked,  and  joined  in  the  laugh.  "  And  now 
that  you  know  what  we  know,  and  we  know  what 
you  know,  what  are  we  going  to  do  to  make  Villa 
bosa  tell  us  something  about  that  Chinese  label 
that  was  on  the  box  that  had  a  diamond  in  it?  " 

The  chief  became  instantly  serious.  "  Unless 
I'm  a  poor  judge,  he  isn't  ready  to  talk  yet,  and 
he  isn't  going  to  be  ready  to  talk  for  some  time. 
If  he  can  get  word  to  his  friends  and  start  habeas 
corpus  or  something  like  that,  he  figures  he  won't 
ever  have  to  talk.  It's  my  strong  opinion  that 
you  could  keep  him  over  in  our  place  a  week,  and 
still  he  would  keep  his  tongue  between  his  teeth, 
unless  there  was  more  pressure  put  on  him  than 
either  you  or  I  have  any  way  to  put  on.  I  don't 
know  as  you  know  much  about  these  Mexicans, 
Mr.  Napier,  but  Mr.  Lamb  does.  It's  darned 
hard  to  make  them  talk,  especially  when  some 
thing  bad,  like  a  murder,  is  involved.  The 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          145 

Rangers  have  the  best  luck  with  them,  and  they 
don't  always  succeed.  But  if  I  were  you,  and 
there  was  any  good,  old-time  Ranger  within 
reach,  I'd  get  to  him  and  holler  for  help." 

"  They  are  all  mortally  afraid  of  the  Texas 
Rangers,"  Lamb  explained  to  Napier.  "  And 
with  good  cause." 

"  It  would  have  to  be  one  of  the  best,"  the  chief 
said.  "  None  of  these  young  fellows  that  have 
gone  in  lately.  I  don't  know  whether  any  of  the 
old-timers  are  in  town,  but " 

"  I  saw  Captain  Dalton  on  the  street  only  this 
forenoon,"  Lamb  broke  in.  "  Didn't  speak  to 
him,  except  to  say  '  howdy.'  If  he  isn't  on  some 
important  work,  and  if  you  agree  that  he  would 
be  a  good  man,  I  could  telephone  Austin  and  ask 
them  to  lend  him  to  the  government  for  a  day  or 
two." 

'  You  do  the  telephoning,  and  I'll  locate  the 
cap'n  and  ask  him  to  come  over  and  see  us,"  the 
chief  agreed  with  enthusiasm.  "  I  didn't  know 
he  was  in  town.  Why,  he's  our  one  best  bet  in 
the  Ranger  service.  If  there  is  one  man  more 
than  another  in  the  State  of  Texas  that  can  put 
the  fear  of  God  into  the  heart  of  a  Mexican,  it's 
Bob  Dalton." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THEY  sat  in  the  chief's  office  at  four  o'clock, 
the  chief,  Napier  and  Dalton,  and  the  special 
treasury  agent  again  told  his  story  for  the 
Ranger's  benefit. 

Captain  Dalton  smoked  quietly  throughout 
the  recital  without  displaying  excessive  interest 
and  did  not  once  interrupt.  He  was  a  tall  man, 
with  broad  shoulders  and  a  tapering  waist,  calm 
gray  eyes  and  a  wind-burned,  leathery  skin.  His 
age  was  forty-six,  and  one  who  saw  only  his  face 
might  have  said  he  was  ten  years  older  than  that, 
but  one  who  saw  only  his  body  would  have  been 
more  likely  to  guess  ten  years  younger. 

Off  duty,  clothed  as  any  comfortably  well-to- 
do  cattleman  on  a  visit  to  town  might  have  been 
clothed,  his  movements  moderate  and  unhurried, 
it  was  not  easy  for  Napier  to  fit  the  Ranger's  ap 
pearance  into  the  tales  the  chief  had  told  him 
while  they  waited  for  him  to  come, — tales  that 
explained  why  Dalton  was  distinguished  for  in 
itiative,  resourcefulness  and  courage  even  in  an 
organization  which  expects  all  those  qualities 
from  its  members  as  a  matter  of  course  and  in  the 
day's  work. 

It  was  hard  to  visualize  in  this  quiet,  reserved 
person  the  unhesitating  dead  shot  and  lightning 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          147 

gun  man  that  he  was  reputed  to  be.  His  low- 
pitched,  drawling  voice  did  not  sound  as  though 
it  could,  in  desperate  emergency,  bark  harsh  com 
mands  that  would  overawe  a  mob,  as — so  the 
chief  said — Dalton  had  more  than  once  done, 
single-handed.  During  the  sinister  Plan  of  San 
Diego  in  1915,  when  the  southern  half  of  Texas 
was  to  be  captured  and  restored  to  Mexico,  "  all 
white  Americans  being  killed,  but  no  negroes," 
as  the  manifesto  naively  proposed,  Dalton  had 
had  charge  of  the  Rangers  in  several  border 
counties  where  Mexicans  outnumbered  Ameri 
cans  fifty  to  one,  and  the  manner  in  which  he  and 
his  men  had  handled  the  situation  had  established 
forever  his  reputation  among  the  bandits  who 
came  across  the  river  and  their  swarm  of  friends 
on  the  northern  side  as  one  who  hurled  swift-driv 
ing  bullets  first  and  discussed  the  matter  after 
ward  (if,  indeed,  he  discussed  it  at  all),  yet  was 
neither  a  bully  nor  a  murderer. 

"  So  there  is  the  situation,"  Napier  concluded. 
"  Villabosa  knows  something  about  this  label." 
He  indicated  the  orange  slip  lying  before  them 
on  the  chief's  desk.  "  He  probably  knows  who 
killed  Puenta.  I  want  to  find  out  about  one  and 
the  chief,  here,  wants  to  know  about  the  other." 

"  I  told  him  if  anybody  could  make  a  Mexican 
admit  that  he  wasn't  entirely  without  sin,  it  was 
you,"  the  chief  said. 

"  I  don't  know,"  the  Ranger  said.  "  I  don't 
know.  I  kain't  do  any  impossibilities.  You 
haven't  got  anything — anything  else,  I  mean — 


148          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

on  this  Villabosa.  Don't  know  who  his  friends 
are,  or  his  connections,  or  anything." 

'  Yes.  We  know  he  used  to  be  tied  up  with  a 
crowd  that  was  supposed  to  be  friendly  to  Villa," 
Napier  said.  "  And  we  got  this  new  name — this 
Pedro  Flores,  of  Eagle  Pass." 

"  I'll  have  somebody  look  Pedro  up,"  Dalton 
said.  "  It  may  help  us  get  a  line  on  this  other 
hombre.  About  this  Villa  outfit,  didn't  you  say 
all  that  was  several  years  ago? " 

"  Yes." 

"  There's  no  telling  from  whom  a  Mexican's 
friends  were  some  years  ago  what  brand  he's 
wearing  now.  Well,  maybe  we  better  have  a 
look  at  him.  He  might  be  ready  to  say  some 
thing  by  now,  without  any  unusual  pressure.  If 
he  isn't,  I'll  try  to  be  thinking  up  something  to 
suggest  while  you  are  talking  to  him.  Suppose 
you  have  him  in  and  don't  mention  me.  We'll 
see  whether  he  knows  me.  If  he  doesn't,  at  the 
right  minute, — after  I  have  butted  into  the  con 
versation,  say, — you  might  mention  my  name  and 
see  what  happens." 

The  chief  pressed  a  button  and  ordered  that 
Villabosa  be  brought  to  them.  Napier  leaned 
forward  to  pick  up  the  piece  of  orange  label  from 
in  front  of  the  chief  and  hesitated.  "  I  wonder 
if  it  wouldn't  be  just  as  well  to  let  that  lie  there 
in  plain  sight  while  we  are  talking  to  him,  and 
not  refer  to  it,  at  first,"  he  suggested. 

"  It  will  help  keep  him  guessing,"  Dalton  ap 
proved.  "  Pretty  well  over  this  side  of  the  desk, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          149 

where  he  kain't  grab  it  and  eat  it,  or  something 
like  that." 

Villabosa  was  brought  in  and  the  officer  who 
escorted  him,  at  the  chief's  order,  went  out  and 
closed  the  door. 

"  You  can  sit  down  in  that  chair,"  the  chief 
told  him,  indicating.  He  obeyed,  and  silence 
followed.  The  eyes  of  the  three  men  were  upon 
him,  but  they  did  not  speak.  Villabosa  scowled 
from  one  to  the  other. 

"Why  don't  I  have  a  lawyer?"  he  finally 
cried.  "  Ever  since  last  night  I  have  been  here, 
demanding  a  lawyer,  and  you  do  not  let  me  send 
for  him.  I  know  my  rights,  and  I'll  get  them, 
too." 

"  You'll  get  them,"  the  chief  said  significantly 
and  fell  silent  again. 

"  I  haven't  done  anything  except  hit  this  man 
by  mistake,  and  I  am  willing  to  plead  guilty  to 
that,"  the  prisoner  began,  and  then  his  eye  fell  on 
the  bit  of  bright  paper  with  its  sprawling  Chinese 
ideographs.  He  stopped,  looked  quickly  about 
the  hostile  triangle,  and  swallowed.  "Why  don't 
you  let  me  send  for  a  lawyer? "  he  demanded,  in 
a  much  less  truculent  voice. 

"Who  knifed  Angel  Puenta?"  the  chief 
snapped  at  him.  "  Come  on.  Don't  tell  us  you 
don't  know,  because  you  do." 

Again  his  eyes  fluttered  to  the  fragment  of 
label.  "  I  don't  know  anything  about  him,"  he 
replied.  "  On  my  word  of  honor,  I  don't.  I 
told  this  man  I  didn't,  and  I  told  the  truth."  He 


150          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

nodded  toward  Napier.  "  You  can  find  out  at 
the  Bonham " 

"  Who  did  you  get  word  to?  Who  did  you 
tell  that  Puenta  had  it  in  his  pocket?  "  It  was  a 
shot  in  the  dark,  but  it  had  its  effect.  Villabosa 
did  not  immediately  answer  in  words,  but  his  eyes 
went  sharply  to  the  blotch  of  color  on  the  desk. 
"  Yes,  that's  it,"  the  chief  followed  up.  "  You 
get  what  I  mean.  Who  did  you  get  word  to?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  at  all.  See 
here,  chief,  and  you  too," — to  the  others.  "  I'm 
not  going  to  say  another  word  until  I  get  a  law 
yer.  I  haven't  done  anything,  and  I  don't  pro 
pose  to  let  you  put  up  any  job  on  me.  I  want  to 
notify  my  friends  where  I  am." 

Dalton,  while  Villabosa  was  saying  this,  had 
taken  a  paper  from  his  pocket  and  was  studying 
it,  looking  up  every  line  or  so  to  stare  at  Villa- 
bosa's  face.  It  was  a  printed  paper  and  looked 
like  a  police  description  of  some  wanted  fugitive, 
as,  in  fact,  it  was, — the  description  of  an  Ameri 
can  youth  aged  eighteen  who  was  greatly  desired 
in  El  Paso  for  the  embezzlement  of  his  em 
ployer's  funds. 

"  He  certainly  answers  the  description,"  he 
suddenly  said  to  the  chief. 

The  chief  smiled  with  satisfaction.  "  I  thought 
he  would." 

Villabosa  said  nothing,  shifting  his  gaze  from 
one  to  the  other  warily.  The  chief,  still  smiling, 
gave  him  a  bit  of  casual  information.  '  This  is 
Captain  Dalton,  of  the  Rangers." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          151 

The  Mexican's  eyes  narrowed,  and  Napier 
knew  that  he  was  well  aware  of  Dalton's  reputa 
tion.  The  chief  had  said  there  wasn't  a  bad 
Mexican  in  Texas  who  didn't  fear  him  mortally, 
but  he  hardly  looked  for  such  speedy  confirma 
tion  of  it,  on  the  mere  mention  of  his  name. 

"  Yes,"  Dalton  told  the  chief  again,  folding 
the  paper  and  replacing  it  in  his  pocket.  "  It 
shore  looks  like  he  is  the  man."  Napier  noticed 
that  he  hadn't  said  he  was  the  man,  either  time. 
He  felt  certain  the  qualification  had  been  for  the 
prisoner's  benefit,  although  he  couldn't  see  the 
point  of  it.  He  was  not  familiar  with  the  one 
piece  of  Ranger  tactics  that  may  be  depended 
upon  beyond  all  others  to  terrify  a  Mexican  with 
a  guilty  conscience. 

"  Are  you  demanding  that  we  turn  him  over  to 
you?  "  the  chief  asked. 

"  Not  necessarily,"  Dalton  said.  "  When  we 
hear  his  story  about  this  killing  here  in  San 
'Ntonio,  we'll  see.  Maybe,  if  he  tells  it  straight, 
I'll  let  you  hold  on  to  him.  It's  going  to  be  a  lot 
of  trouble  to  take  him  way  down  there  by  the 
river  to  get  him  identified.  Me,  I'd  just  as  lives 
not  have  to  do  it.  And  Ranger  Hard,  who  would 
have  to  go  along  with  me,  he's  just  got  in  town 
here  after  three  months'  border  duty,  and  he'll 
shore  feel  mean  if  he  has  to  quit  when  he's  hardly 
got  started  to  amusing  himself — he's  got  a  girl 
here,  too — to  go  gallyhooting  down  into  that 
country  guarding  this  feller.  No.  Let's  hear 
what  he's  got  to  say  about  this  case  here,  and 


152          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

maybe  it'll  be  all  right  for  you  to  hold  him. 
We'll  see  after  he  comes  through." 

At  Dalton's  opening  words  in  reply  to  the 
chief's  query,  Villabosa's  eyes  fixed  themselves 
on  the  Ranger's  face.  When  Dalton  spoke  of 
taking  him  "  way  down  there  by  the  river  "  to 
get  him  identified,  muscles  in  his  cheeks  twitched 
nervously.  As  it  appeared  that  two  Rangers 
would  make  the  journey,  and  that  at  least  one  of 
them  would  feel  disgruntled  at  having  to  leave 
San  Antonio,  he  sat  back  in  his  chair,  breathing 
hard.  When  Dalton  finished,  he  began  to  sput 
ter  with  fluent  desperation. 

"  You  can't  do  it!  "  he  cried.  "  You  can't  do 
it !  No,  chief,  don't  turn  me  over  to  him.  Don't 
do  it,  chief.  I  won't  stand  for  it!  " 

"  You'll  stand  for  it  if  he  demands  it,"  the 
chief  told  him  coldly.  "  However,  if  you've  got 
anything  you  want  to  say  about  this  Angel 
Puenta  killing,  and  this  piece  of  paper  that  you 
saw  fall  out  of  his  pocket  in  the  Bonham,  we'll 
hear  it." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  Villabosa 
protested.  "  And  I  don't  know  anything  about 
this  other  thing  this  Ranger  talks  about,  either. 
I  haven't  done  anything  down  in  any  of  the  river 
counties.  They  don't  want  me  for  anything, 
honest,  chief.  He  don't  say  I'm  the  man;  didn't 
you  notice  that?  He  only  says  I  look  like  the 
man.  He  wants  to  get  me  down  in  one  of  those 
counties,  and "  He  stopped,  panting. 

"  We're  waiting  for  that  story  about  Puenta." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL,          153 

"  I  tell  you  I  don't  know  anything  about 
Puenta.  Listen,  chief!  They  take  a  man  down 
to  the  river,  these  Rangers,  and  maybe  somebody 
identifies  him  as  a  murderer,  or  something,  but 
maybe  nobody  does.  What  does  the  Ranger  re 
port  say?  What  did  it  say  when  Liborio  Tamez 
started  for  the  Rio  Grande  and  never  got  there? 
You  know  what  it  said:  *  Killed  while  attempt 
ing  to  escape.'  The  ley  fuega.  I  won't  go, 
chief.  Don't  let  him  take  me." 

"  Was  Liborio  Tamez  a  friend  of  yours? " 
The  significance  of  this  was  lost  on  Napier  until 
afterward,  when  he  learned  that  Tamez  was  a 
leader  in  the  insane  plot  of  1916  to  seize,  burn 
and  loot  a  chain  of  South  Texas  cities  and  towns 
— as  desperate  a  bandit  as  ever  met  a  violent  and 
just  reward. 

"  No.  But  everybody  knows  what  happened 
to  him.  Chief!"  His  voice  lifted  a  bit  hys 
terically.  "  Don't  turn  me  over  to  the  Rangers." 

"All  right.  We'll  see.  What  about  Pu 
enta?  " 

But  if  he  feared  the  Rangers,  it  might  be 
judged  there  were  other  things  he  feared  as 
much,  for  he  persisted  in  denying  all  knowledge 
of  the  little  Mexican's  death  or  of  the  Chinese 
label  that  was  in  his  pocket.  Frightened  he  ob 
viously  was,  but  not  frightened  enough  to  con 
fess.  His  nerve  was  clearly  shaken,  but  it  did 
not  break,  and  after  a  period  of  protests,  appeals 
and  demands,  he  suddenly  got  a  grip  on  himself. 

"  I — don't — know — anything — about — Pu- 


154          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

enta,"  he  declared,  with  emphasis  on  every  word. 
"And  I'm  through.  I  am  not  going  to  say  an 
other  thing  until  I  get  a  lawyer,  and  if  you  won't 
send  for  one,  I'll  get  one  somehow.  This  is  an 
outrage,  and  I  won't  stand  for  it.  When  I  get 
out,  I'll  make  you  pay  for  it,  the  whole  of  you. 
I  am  not  wanted  by  the  police  down  on  the  border 
for  anything,  and  you  know  it.  I  warn  you  not 
to  send  me  down  there.  If  there  is  anybody 
there  who  thinks  he  can  identify  me,  let  him  come 
up  here.  I'll  pay  all  his  expenses,  and  this  man  " 
— jerking  his  head  toward  Napier — "  has  money 
enough  of  mine  to  foot  the  bills,  and  I  give  him 
authority  to  spend  it  for  that,  now."  He  sat 
back,  pale  but  determined.  "  Now  you  can  lock 
me  up  again,  or  you  can  let  me  go,  just  as  you 
please,  but  you  won't  get  any  story  out  of  me,  be 
cause  I  haven't  got  anything  to  tell — or  you  can 
go  to  the  devil."  He  spat  the  words,  envenomed. 

The  chief  raised  his  eyebrows  and  looked  at 
Dalton,  who  had  listened  quite  unmoved  to  the 
Mexican's  peroration. 

"All  right,"  the  Ranger  captain  said.  "If 
you  don't  mind,  I'll  get  hold  of  Ranger  Hard, 
and  Senor  Villabosa  can  get  ready  to  start  on  a 
little  journey." 

"  Do  it!  "  Villabosa  defied  him.  "  Do  it,  and 
my  friends  will  learn  where  I  am — and  once  I 
get  before  a  judge  on  a  habeas  corpus  you'll  let 
me  go  quick,  and  you  know  it.  Do  it !  Start  me 
for  the  border.  Somebody  will  see  me  that 
knows  me.5' 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          155 

"  Not  in  an  automobile,  after  dark/'  Captain 
Dalton  told  him  equably.  "And  they  won't  hear 
you,  either,  because  you'll  be  gagged." 

"  Take  him  back,"  the  chief  commanded  the 
officer  who  responded  to  his  signal. 

The  prisoner  was  hardly  out  of  the  room  be 
fore  his  voice  rang  loudly  through  the  corridor. 
"  Villabosa!  "  he  shouted.  "  My  name  is  Villa- 
bosa.  Salvador  Villabosa.  Are  there  any  re 
porters  here?  Print  it.  Salv "  An  abrupt 

cessation  of  the  bellow  indicated  that  a  hard  and 
heavy  hand  had  come  into  action  as  an  ex 
tinguisher. 

The  chief  stepped  to  the  door  and  spoke  to  a 
passing  officer.  "Are  there?  "  he  asked. 

"Are  there  what,  chief?  " 

"Any  reporters  in  the  building.  Look  quick. 
If  there  are,  ask  them  to  come  here  right  away. 
And  see  if  anybody  else  seemed  to  take  any  notice 
of  that  man's  yelling." 

The  officer  was  back  in  a  moment.  "  Nobody 
here  at  all  just  now  except  officers.  Not  an  out 
sider  on  the  floor." 

"All  right,"  the  chief  dismissed  him  and  turned 
to  where  Dalton  was  rolling  a  fresh  cigarette, 
seemingly  very  much  at  peace  with  the  world. 

What  was  the  matter? "  he  asked.  "  We  al 
most  had  him  going  for  a  minute.  What  changed 
him?" 

"  Well,"  the  Ranger  drawled,  still  busy  with 
the  adequate  manufacture  of  his  smoke.  "  For 
one  thing,  he  got  to  thinking  that  maybe  it  was 


156          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

all  a  bluff,  and  that  if  it  wasn't,  he  would  have 
plenty  of  time  to  squeal  after  he  was  sure  it 
wasn't.  For  another,  maybe  he's  as  afraid  of 
somebody  that  would  get  him  if  he  told  what  he 
knows  as  he  is  of  the  Rangers.  And,  another 
thing,  he  kept  sizing  me  up  and  wondering  if  I 
was  the  kind  of  a  feller  that  would  take  a  Mex 
ican  out  and  kill  him  in  cold  blood — and  guessed 
right  on  the  answer." 

He  scratched  a  match  and  inhaled  deeply. 
"  But  there  is  a  lot  of  time  to  change  his  mind 
as  to  that,"  he  said.  "  Maybe,  by  to-morrow, 
he'll  feel  different.  If  not,  he  will  sooner  or 
later,  or  he's  got  more  nerve  than  most  of  'em. 
When  Hard  and  I  get  him  out  in  the  sticks,  and 
he  realizes  there  ain't  any  chances  of  dodging  one 
kind  of  a  hereafter  or  another — we'll  see." 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  take  him?  "  Napier 
asked. 

"  Down  here  about  a  hundred  miles  to  a  little 
farm  that  I  happen  to  own,  down  in  San  Miguel 
County.  There's  nobody  there  but  one  man,  who 
can  be  depended  on,  and  Villabosa  will  suppose 
that  it  is  the  county  where  somebody  needs  to  be 
identified  for  something.  If  necessary,  I  prob'ly 
will  have  a  few  folks  I  can  trust  come  see  him 
from  time  to  time  and  look  him  over  speculative. 
In  the  meantime  we'll  see  what  we  can  find  out 
about  him.  That  name  at  Eagle  Pass  was  Pedro 
Flores,  wasn't  it?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  It's  some  common  name,  and  I  suppose  there 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          157 

are  ten  of  'em  there,  but  I'm  betting  there  ain't 
more'n  one  that  would  be  the  kind  of  feller  this 
Villabosa  would  be  trying  to  get  word  to.  He 
isn't  telegraphing  any  common  pelado.  This 
feller  is  prob'ly  some  prominent  among  the  Mex 
population.  If  we  kin  get  a  line  on  Pedro,  it 
may  give  us  something  on  Villabosa.  All  I  need 
to  know  is  who  his  friends  are  on  the  other  side 
of  the  river,  and  I'll  take  my  chances  on  being 
able  to  make  the  information  useful."  He  puffed 
meditatively  a  moment,  and  added,  "  When  you 
know  who  a  greaser's  friends  are,  these  days,  you 
quite  frequently  don't  have  to  ask  who  are  his 


enemies." 


"  I'll  be  here  to  see  you  make  your  start,"  the 
chief  said.  "  What  time  ?  " 

"About  nine,  I  guess.  It  will  be  dark  then. 
And  in  the  meantime  I'm  going  to  write  a  little 
letter  to  Cap'n  Williams — he's  in  charge  of  the 
Rangers  down  in  that  Eagle  Pass  country  just 
now — and  ask  him  to  get  busy  looking  Flores  and 
Villabosa  up.  And  I'd  suggest  that  you  " — he 
addressed  Napier — "  write  your  customs  officers 
down  there,  or  ask  Lamb  to,  and  see  what  they 
can  gather  along  the  same  line." 

'  We  could  telegraph,  or  telephone." 

"  I  wouldn't,"  Dalton  advised.  "  It's  quicker, 
but  only  one  person  knows  what's  in  a  letter — un 
less  he  tells  it.  It  has  to  be  done  sometimes,  but 
mentioning  names  over  a  wire  isn't  the  most 
secret  of  indoor  sports." 

"  I'll  go  over  to  the  Federal  Building  and  see 


158          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

that  a  letter  is  sent  right  away,  and  be  here  at 
eight." 

He  pocketed  the  slip  of  paper  with  its  Chinese 
lettering  and  hurried  to  carry  out  his  errand. 
Lamb,  who  was  still  at  his  desk,  signed  the  letter 
that  he  dictated,  and  he  went  downstairs  and 
mailed  it,  after  which,  with  nothing  more  to  do 
and  no  desire  to  bother  the  collector,  who  was  ex 
tremely  busy,  he  wandered  out  on  to  the  street. 
Gordon  had  not  telephoned  or  otherwise  re 
ported. 

Napier  looked  at  his  watch;  it  was  not  yet  five 
o'clock.  It  was  hardly  likely  Madame  Frezzi 
would  be  at  home,  but  he  had  a  sudden  impulse 
to  see  at  least  what  sort  of  a  house  she  lived  in 
and  where.  He  got  a  car  and  told  the  driver  to 
take  him  to  311  Chiromoya  Street. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  automobile  set  him  down,  ten  minutes 
later,  before  a  good-sized  residence  in  the  edge 
of  the  Mexican  quarter,  and  he  went  up  the  short 
walk  to  the  door  and  rang  the  bell. 

A  dark-skinned  maid  responded.  "  Madame 
Frezzi?  "  he  asked,  and  the  girl  looked  puzzled 
and  replied  in  Spanish,  spoken  too  rapidly  and 
with  too  much  of  a  Mexican  accent  for  him  to 
understand.  He  had  an  inspiration,  amended 
his  inquiry  to  "  Senora  Frezzi,"  and  gave  the 
name  the  Spanish  pronunciation  instead  of  the 
Italian. 

"  Si  seiior"  the  girl  replied,  and  opened  the 
door  wider  for  his  entrance.  ff  Espere  usted  un 
poco."  She  left  him  and  disappeared  up  a  flight 
of  stairs.  He  gathered  that  she  had  indicated 
she  would  go  to  summon  the  senora  and  took  a 
seat. 

It  was  a  very  old  house,  but  in  fairly  good  re 
pair  and  seemingly  well  furnished,  so  far  as  he 
could  make  out  from  his  view  of  a  broad  parlor 
that  opened  out  of  the  hall.  He  could  see  com 
fortable  chairs,  a  piano,  and  too  much  bric-a-brac. 
The  hall  where  he  sat  was  wide  and  led  com 
pletely  through  the  house  to  the  back,  and  a  cloor 
that  was  partly  open  at  the  rear  framed  a  glimpse 


160          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

of  what  looked  to  be  a  good-sized  yard,  its  foliage 
glistening  green  in  the  afternoon  sun. 

Madame  Frezzi  came  down  almost  immedi 
ately,  her  hand  cordially  extended. 

"  I  couldn't  have  dared  hope  you  would  come 
so  soon,"  she  said. 

"And  I  was  afraid  you  wouldn't  be  here,  but 
you  said  '  always  on  Wednesdays  '  and  this  is 
Wednesday.  The  parade  this  afternoon  didn't 
interest  me,  and  I  suddenly  determined  to  look 
you  up,  although  I  realized  you  might  be  out 
seeing  it." 

'  There  is  nothing  picturesque  in  a  trades' 
parade,"  she  said.  "  I  wouldn't  be  uncomfort 
able  in  a  crowd  for  it.  But  Mrs.  Bonillas — she 
is  my  relative  here — is  one  who  likes  not  to  miss 
any  detail  of  the  Fiesta.  I  am  sorry  she  is  not 
at  home;  I  would  like  you  to  meet  her." 

Throughout  this  brief  interchange  they  had  re 
mained  standing  in  the  hall.  Madame  Frezzi 
now  took  a  step  toward  the  parlor  at  the  side  and 
then  changed  her  mind.  "  Wouldn't  it  be  nicer 
to  sit  out  in  the  patio?  "  she  asked.  "  It  is  such  a 
lovely  afternoon,  and  we  can  have  tea  out  there." 
She  led  the  way  down  the  hall.  "  It  isn't  really 
a  patio  at  all,"  she  told  him,  over  her  shoulder. 
"  It  is  only  a  yard.  But  it  is  quite  pleasant. 
We  spend  a  great  deal  of  our  time  out  here." 

They  passed  through  the  door  and  into  an  en 
closure,  high  walled  at  sides  and  back,  that  was 
surprisingly  spacious.  Land  in  that  section  of 
the  city  had  not  been  especially  valuable  when 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          161 

the  house  was  built,  and  the  lot  was  deep  and 
wide,  with  many  shade  trees,  vines  and  creepers 
to  contrast  their  color  with  the  gray  stone — or 
perhaps  adobe — of  the  wall,  and  flowers  and 
blooming  shrubs,  profusely  scattered,  with  pome 
granates,  poppies  and  roses  already  in  bloom. 

There  were  two  or  three  little  tables  under  the 
trees,  and  she  led  the  way  to  one  of  them,  after 
having  called  a  command  in  melodious  Spanish 
to  some  one  in  the  house,  who  replied,  "  Si, 
senora" 

"Delightful!"  he  exclaimed,  as  they  took 
seats.  "  One  could  never  imagine,  from  the 
street,  that  you  had  so  pleasant  a  retreat  back 
here." 

"  The  Mexicans  are  like  the  Spaniards — and 
unlike  you  Americans,  if  you  won't  take  offense, 
which  you  won't,  because  you  are  too  well- 
traveled.  They  do  not  like  to  live  their  lives  in 
public." 

The  dark  servant  came  out  with  tea  and  little 
cakes,  and  Madame  Frezzi  poured  while  they 
chatted  of  inconsequential  things, — of  some  of 
the  people  who  had  been  present  when  they  met 
in  Paris;  of  how  Paris  must  have  changed,  in 
some  respects,  and  naturally,  of  how  Madame 
Frezzi  liked  America. 

"  You  didn't  tell  me  where  you  make  your 
home,"  he  said. 

"A  little  way  outside  New  York,  on  Long 
Island,"  she  told  him.  "  I  have  a  little  house 
there,  near  enough  to  town  to  get  in  and  out 


162          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

easily,  and  far  enough  away  to  be  quiet — and  not 
demand  every  cent  of  my  income  for  rent.  When 
you  are  back  in  New  York,  I  hope  you  will  be 
able  to  come  down  and  see  me  some  time." 

He  expressed  the  pleasure  it  would  give  him. 

"And  you?  I  suppose  you  live  close  to  the 
city,  so  as  to  be  near  your  business." 

"  In  the  city,"  he  said.     "At  a  club." 

"  But  your  business  doesn't  hold  you  in  an 
office  like  most  men's,  I  imagine.  You  travel  a 
great  deal,  naturally.  What  are  you  poor  im 
porters  doing  these  days,  when  there  are  neither 
ships  to  bring  the  goods  nor  passports  for  the 
agents  who  go  up  and  down  the  earth  buving 
them? " 

He  answered  that  business  had  indeed  been  bad 
for  lo!  these  several  years,  but,  as  he  talked, 
lightly  describing  the  depleted  condition  of  most 
importers'  warerooms,  he  reflected  on  the  fact 
that  twice  he  had  met  Madame  Frezzi  that  day, 
and  each  time  his  business  had  been  one  of  the 
earliest  things  to  be  discussed,  although,  at  noon, 
she  had  not  introduced  the  subject.  And  neither 
Italians  nor  Spaniards  nor  European  ladies  of 
any  other  blood,  concerned  principally  with  af 
fairs  of  state  and  politics,  are  prone  to  discuss 
commercial  matters  at  all.  That  message,  Mon 
day  night,  had  said  his  business  would  be  bene 
fited  if  he  would  respond  to  it. 

"  Shall  you  remain  in  San  Antonio  after  the 
Fiesta?  "  he  asked,  "  or  are  you  here  only  for  the 
week?" 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          163 

"  Oh,  I  haven't  just  arrived,"  she  said.  "  I 
have  been  here  more  than  a  fortnight.  I  timed 
my  visit  to  include  Fiesta  Week,  of  course,  but  I 
wouldn't  have  felt  like  making  my  cousin  a  little, 
fly-by-night  visit  like  that.  It  would  have  looked 
as  though  I  only  wanted  to  see  the  carnival  and 
had  made  her  my  excuse.  As  to  going,  I  haven't 
made  up  my  mind.  It  may  be  next  week.  I 
may  stay  two  or  three  weeks  longer.  How  long 
are  you  planning  to  be  here?  " 

He  implied  in  his  answer  that  he  was  on  a  vaca 
tion  and  had  some  thought  of  extending  it  to  the 
Pacific  coast,  although  he  might  decide  to  spend 
the  whole  outing  in  Texas. 

"  I  was  mighty  sorry  not  to  accept  Mr.  Sas- 
tanada's  invitation  to  take  lunch  with  you,"  he 
said,  after  a  little.  "  Seems  like  a  mighty  nice 
chap,  Sastanada." 

This  lead  might  have  induced  her  to  tell  him 
something  about  her  amiable  luncheon  com 
panion,  but  it  didn't.  "  It  was  too  bad  you  had 
to  run  away,"  was  her  reply.  "  Did  you  find 
your  friend  at  the  St.  Francis,  as  you  hoped?  " 

"  It  was  a  good  guess.  Can  you  understand 
how  a  hotel  clerk  can  get  a  message  over  the  tele 
phone,  making  an  appointment  for  the  St.  Fran 
cis,  and  deliver  it  as  being  the  Plaza?  " 

He  took  some  more  tea  and  spoke  highly  of 
the  little  cakes.  Then  he  said,  idly: 

"  I  had  a  notion,  when  I  saw  you  in  the  crowd, 
Monday  night,  to  come  back  and  try  to  find  you. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did  start  back,  but  the 


164          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

jam  was  too  great.  I  had  been  in  town  three 
days,  and  yours  was  the  first  face  I  had  seen  that 
I  knew.  There  is  no  place  quite  so  lonely  as  a 
crowd." 

She  smiled  at  the  bromide  as  flatteringly  as 
though  it  were  new.  "  You  would  have  met 
some  very  pleasant  people  if  you  had  found  us," 
she  said,  "  and  we  had  a  good  place  to  see  the 
king's  ceremonies.  It  is  an  interesting  thing,  the 
way  Americans,  who  insist  they  don't  like  kings 
and  queens  at  all,  like  to  play  at  bowing  down  to 
royalty." 

"  Some  pretty  conservative  monarchies  are 
only  playing  at  it,  these  days,"  he  laughed. 
"  There  is  more  than  one  bona  fide  king,  I  fancy, 
who  would  be  glad  to  have  his  throne  guaranteed 
for  as  long  as  this  San  Antonio's  king's  reign. 
That  fellow  with  the  crown,  the  ermine-trimmed 
mantle  and  the  look  of  pained  embarrassment 
Monday  night,  is  sure  of  his  job  for  a  whole 
week." 

She  spoke  kindly  of  George,  Victor  Emanuel 
and  Alfonso.  "  What  I  enjoy  about  these  car 
nivals,"  she  said,  "  is  not  the  processions  and 
coronations ;  they  aren't  very  thrilling  to  one  who 
has  seen  the  real  thing.  It  is  the  spirit  of  the 
crowds.  You  were  speaking  about  it  at  lunch 
to-day.  Were  you  in  New  York  on  armistice 
night"? " 

"  No." 

"  If  you  had  been,  you  would  never  cease  to 
note  the  difference  in  these  Latin  crowds — or, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          165 

rather,  crowds  in  places  that  have  a  deep  strain 
of  Latin  blood  and  tradition.  New  York  had 
the  crowd,  the  noise,  and  far  more  cause  to  be 
merry  than  these  people  have  here,  this  week. 
It  had  everything — except  the  carnival  spirit. 
And  it  was  as  different  from  this  as  though  the 
people  came  from  two  worlds." 

Adroitly,  she  had  succeeded  in  leading  the  con 
versation  a  long  way,  he  thought,  from  Monday 
evening  and  his  desire  to  see  her  again. 

He  brought  it  back:  "  I  tried  to  find  you  later, 
that  night,  but  was  unable  to." 

There  was  no  emphasis  to  give  his  words  sig 
nificance,  but  he  looked  into  her  face  as  he  said  it, 
alert  for  some  expression  that  would  show  she 
understood.  "  The  woman  who  smiled,"  Puenta 
had  said,  and  Madame  Frezzi  could  not  know 
that  this,  to  Napier,  had  been  cryptic.  She  could 
not  possibly  be  aware  that  two  women  had  smiled 
at  him  that  evening. 

"  It  was  all  we  could  do  to  get  home,  the 
crowds  were  so  thick,"  she  said,  and  went  on  with 
an  account  of  how  the  automobile  in  which  she 
rode  stalled  for  an  incredible  period  at  one  of 
the  corners.  He  was  disappointed.  Not  by  the 
slightest  flicker  of  an  eyelash  had  she  indicated 
that  his  words  had  any  more  meaning  for  her  than 
they  purported  to  have. 

The  Mexican  girl  came  out  and  spoke  a  few 
words  in  Spanish. 

"  Will  you  excuse  me  a  moment? "  Madame 
Frezzi  asked.  "  I  am  called  to  the  telephone." 


160          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

While  she  was  gone  he  moved  about  the  yard. 
The  high  walls  were  of  adobe,  as  he  had  guessed. 
There  was  a  shrub  whose  name  he  did  not  know 
and  a  tree  that  was  quite  unfamiliar;  he  thought 
he  would  ask  her  their  names  when  she  came  out. 

But  when  she  came,  he  ceased  to  be  interested 
in  shrubs  and  trees.  Something  had  occurred  to 
agitate  his  hostess  violently,  and  her  emotion  was 
not  sorrow,  but  anger.  She  was  making  a  strong 
effort  to  hold  herself  in  hand,  but  her  bosom  was 
heaving,  her  voice  quivered  perceptibly,  and  there 
was  a  flash  in  her  eye  that  boded  no  comfort  for 
the  person  or  thing  which  had  enraged  her,  if  that 
object  happened  to  be  near  at  hand  while  she 
was  still  in  her  present  mood.  Not  enough  time 
had  elapsed  for  her  to  have  participated  in  any 
quarrel,  either  over  a  telephone  or  directly. 
There  was  but  one  other  probable  answer.  Some 
one  had  telephoned  disturbing  news. 

Ordinarily,  as  she  had  recently  demonstrated — 
or  so  he  believed — Madame  Frezzi  was  able  to 
dissemble  cleverly.  But  perhaps,  when  she  was 
under  the  stress  of  such  passion  as  now  swayed 
her,  with  her  emotions  near  to  the  surface,  her 
real  thoughts  would  not  be  so  easily  hidden.  As 
she  resumed  their  interrupted  conversation,  try 
ing  to  speak  as  lightly  as  before  and  plainly  striv 
ing  both  to  gain  mastery  over  herself  and  keep 
him  from  observing  her  excitement,  he  suddenly 
determined  upon  an  action  that  until  that  moment 
he  had  not  planned  at  all. 

"It  is  certainly  a  beautiful  near- patio"  he 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          167 

said,  "  with  all  the  atmosphere  of  a  home  in  Spain 
or  Mexico.  Even  the  romantic  looking  door  in 
the  gray  wall,  where  the  hero  can  slip  out,  or  the 
villain  in,  without  being  seen  from  the  front." 

He  opened  the  narrow  door,  took  one  step 
through  it — and  stood  on  the  spot  where  Angel 
Puenta  died. 

Instantly  he  turned,  stepped  back,  closed  the 
door,  and  looked  down,  unsmiling,  into  Madame 
Frezzi's  eyes. 

"  Your  messenger  did  his  best  to  bring  me  here, 
but  he  met  with  a  serious  accident,  as  you  know," 
he  said.  "  You  had  better  tell  me  about  it." 


CHAPTER  XV 

"  WHAT  messenger?  "  she  repeated.  "  I  do 
not  understand."  But  her  hand  was  at  her 
throat,  and  in  her  eyes  was  startled  apprehension. 

"  We  had  better  sit  down,"  Napier  told  her. 
She  sank  into  her  chair,  and  he  took  the  seat 
opposite.  His  eyes,  since  his  question,  had  not 
left  her  face.  "  He  was  killed  at  your  gate. 
Why?" 

"  How  should  I  know? "  she  replied.  "And 
why  do  you  call  him  my  messenger?  "  Very  des 
perately  she  was  trying  to  regain  her  usual  poise, 
but  without  success,  and  her  eyes  fell  under  his 
grave  gaze.  "  You  mean  that  Mexican,  of  course. 
He  was  no  messenger  of  mine." 

"  You  did  not  know  him?  " 

"  No,"  she  declared,  and  then  caught  her  breath 
and  bit  her  lip.  Perhaps  it  would  be  an  easy 
thing  to  discover  that  she  did.  "  That  is — I  mean 
I  did  not  know  much  about  him.  I  had  seen 
him  working  around  here." 

"  He  worked  here?  " 

"  Not — not  exactly.  He  came  here  on  work — 
doing  errands,  or  something  like  that." 

"For  whom?" 

Clearly  she  felt  she  must,  if  possible,  counter 
this  cross-examination.  "  How  should  I  know?" 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          169 

she  asked.  "And  why  should  you  ask  me  these 
things?  A  man  was  murdered  in  the  alley  be 
yond  our  wall.  What  should  I  know  about  it?  " 

"  That  is  what  I  am  asking." 

"  Nothing,  except  what  I  saw  in  the  news 
paper.  Somebody  found  him  dead.  It  said  he 
had  been  stabbed." 

"And  you,  I  suppose,  were  in  the  house." 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  who  was  going  to  unlock  this  gate  for 
him? " 

Again  she  tried  to  shift  the  questioning.  "  Do 
you  mean  to  say  he  was  coming  here? " 

"  He  hadn't  said.  But  he  gave  me  your  mes 
sage.  If  you  were  here "  He  left  the  sen 
tence  significantly  suspended. 

"My  message?"  She  hesitated,  and  Napier 
sensed  in  her  voice  a  note  of  indecision.  There 
was  no  way  by  which  she  could  know  whether  or 
not  Puenta  had  given  him  the  name  of  the  one 
who  sent  him.  '  You  say  he  brought  you  a  mes 
sage?  " 

Napier  refused  to  let  her  become  the  examiner. 
'  You  haven't  told  me  who  was  going  to  open 
the  gate,"  he  insisted. 

"  How  do  I  know  any  one  was?  " 

"  Did  any  one  else  want  to  see  me  besides 
you? " 

Her  hands,  on  the  table  before  her,  were 
clasped,  and  the  ends  of  her  nails  were  white  with 
their  tension.  She  tried  to  smile  naturally. 
"  But  you  still  seem  to  be  taking  it  for  granted 


170          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

your  message  came  from  me,  when  I  have  told 
you  it  did  not.  That  is  not  very  complimentary, 
Mr.  Napier." 

"Where  were  you  when  I  discovered  his 
body?"  Napier  demanded.  He  was  surprised 
at  the  real  astonishment  with  which  she  cried, 
"  You !  Was  it  you  who  found  him  ?  " 

He  nodded.  '  Where  were  you? "  he  re 
peated. 

4 '  If  it  was  around  twelve  o'clock  I  must  have 
been " 

He  interrupted  her  impatiently.  "  There  is 
no  use  our  going  on  this  way,  Madame  Frezzi. 
I  propose  to  know.  I  don't  want  to  have  to  go 
to  the  police  with  this,  but  if  you  do  not  tell 
me " 

She  broke  in  sharply.  "Do  you  mean  you 
would  not  go  to  the  police  if  you  knew?  " 

"  It  would  depend  on  what  I  knew.  Per 
haps." 

She  leaned  forward,  speaking  rapidly,  eagerly. 
"  If  you  were  certain  I  had  no  responsibility  in 
regard  to  it  at  all — if  you  were  convinced  I  knew 
nothing  whatever  about  who  did  it  or  why  it  was 
done — neither  I  nor  anybody  in  the  house — 
would  you  promise  not  to  tell  the  police?  "  She 
seemed  to  feel  this  outburst  called  for  explana 
tion.  "  They  are  blockheads.  They  do  not  use 
reason.  American  police  and  European  police, 
they  are  all  alike.  They  believe  everybody  to  be 
guilty." 

"  If  you  were  to  tell  me,"  Napier  said  quietly, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          171 

but  without  withdrawing  his  eyes  from  her  face, 
"  if  you  were  to  tell  me  all  you  know  about  this 
Puenta  and  how  he  was  killed,  and  if  I  were  abso 
lutely  convinced  that  neither  you  nor  anybody  in 
this  house  were  really  concerned  in  it  at  all,  and 
that  the  ends  of  justice  did  not  require  that  you 
should  be  brought  into  it,  I  do  not  see  why  it 
would  be  necessary  to  go  to  the  police.  If  you 
are  satisfied  with  those  qualifications,  I  promise." 

"  I  am,"  she  said  promptly.  She  laughed,  a 
little  shakily  to  be  sure,  but  with  a  certain  air  of 
triumph.  "  Isn't  it  unusual,"  she  asked,  "  for 
a  citizen  who  has  become  so  interested  in  a  crime 
as  you  have  in  this  one  to  think  perhaps  he  can 
work  it  out  all  by  himself  without  the  help  of  the 
police — while  he  is  on  a  holiday?  "  Mockery  was 
in  her  eyes  and  her  voice.  "  You  are  allowing 
yourself  to  get  out  of  character,  Mr.  Napier,  and 
I  had  about  made  up  my  mind  you  never  did.  I 
am  a  little  surprised  at  you." 

It  was  his  turn  to  parrot  words.  "  Out  of 
character? " 

"  We  might  as  well  speak  frankly,  because  I 
don't  want  you  to  think  I  would  be  such  a  fool  as 
to  trust  every  well-mannered  Oriental  importer 
that  I  might  meet  for  the  fourth  time  in  my  life 
not  to  run  straight  to  police  headquarters,  prom 
ise  or  no  promise.  I  am  trusting  you  because  I 
am  quite  aware  of  your  reputation  for  not  con 
fusing  the  innocent  with  the  guilty — and  your 
very  wide  experience." 

He  wisely  remained  silent. 


172          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  In  Paris,  the  first  time  we  met/'  she  told 
him,  "  I  was  given  quite  elaborate  details  as  to 
your  profession  and  some  of  your  major  suc 
cesses,  by  an  American  who  knew." 

He  hoped  he  was  concealing  his  inner  feel 
ings.  So  she  had  been  amusing  herself  by  her 
questions  about  his  business. 

"  You  prefer  not  to  admit  any  connection  with 
the  government,  eh? "  she  said,  as  he  did  not  an 
swer.  "  Well,  I  will  not  hold  that  against  you. 
It  isn't  done,  I  suppose." 

She  became  serious  again,  but  with  her  tem 
porary  shift  from  defense  to  attack  (able  tactics, 
Napier  admiringly  admitted  to  himself),  she  had 
gained  self-control,  and  when  she  went  on  her 
poise  was  almost  normal.  "  I  am  going  to  tell 
you,  now,  exactly  what  happened  Monday  night, 
so  far  as  I  can.  I  shall  show  you  that  I  really 
know  almost  nothing  about  the  murder,  and  then 
I  shall  leave  myself  in  your  hands.  You  will 
not,  I  am  sure,  forget  your  promise." 

Napier  bowed  gravely,  and  she  continued: 

"  I  was  waiting  for  him  to  come,  sitting  very 
quietly,  right  here  where  I  am  sitting  now.  I 
had  told  him  to  be  here  at  twelve  o'clock,  whether 
he  found  you  or  not;  I  did  not  want  to  be  out 
here  later  than  that.  As  he  came  through  the 
alley  he  was  to  whistle,  very  softly,  four  notes, 
and  then  he  was  to  knock  four  times  on  the  door, 
and  I  would  open  it.  I  heard  his  steps,  and  then 
the  whistle — there  were  only  the  footsteps  of  one, 
and  I  supposed  he  was  alone."  She  looked  in- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          173 

quiringly  at  Napier,  and  he  said,  "  I  was  some 
distance  behind;  he  asked  me  not  to  walk  with 
him." 

"  Yes,"  she  nodded.  "  Naturally,  but  I  sup 
posed  you  would  have  joined  him  outside  the 
alley.  I  did  not  think  there  was  any  danger  of 
his  being  observed  after  you  got  this  far;  I  sup 
posed  he  would  wait  out  there  in  the  street  for 
you  to  come  up.  When  only  one  came,  I  was 
sure  he  hadn't  found  you."  She  smiled  a  little 
as  she  added,  "  If  I  had  known  you  were  the  one 
who  found  his  body,  what  an  idiot  I  would  have 
been  to  give  you  my  address,  this  noon,  and  ask 
you  to  call." 

"  I  wondered  about  that,"  he  admitted. 

"  The  paper  said,  '  The  body  was  discovered 
by  a  passing  pedestrian.'  I  didn't  know  how 
long  afterward  it  was ;  the  paper  didn't  say." 

He  nodded  understanding,  and  waited  for  her 
to  go  on. 

"  He  whistled,"  she  said.  "  Four  notes.  And 
I  got  up  and  went  quietly  to  the  gate,  waiting 
for  the  four  knocks.  He  never  gave  them." 

Her  face  reflected  some  of  the  emotions  of  the 
night. 

"  His  footsteps  had  not  quite  reached  the  door, 
although  they  were  very  near — he  was  already 
stopping — when  I  heard  a  different  sound.  It 
was  the  movement  of  some  one  else,  not  loud, 
and  at  the  same  instant  a  blow.  Then  there  was 
a  groan  and  a  fall.  I  shrank  back  by  the  door, 
holding  my  breath.  For  a  second  or  two  there 


174          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

was  no  sound  at  all,  and  then  came  a  rustling, 
dragging  noise.  I  think  he  was  moving  the 
body.  And  then  something  fell  in  the  yard, 
right  there  by  the  pomegranate  bush  behind  you. 
There  was  another  groan  and  more  rustling — but 
only  a  little.  Then  the  murderer  set  out  toward 
the  other  end  of  the  alley.  He  ran  at  first,  but 
as  he  got  toward  the  end  I  think  he  walked.  Be 
fore  that  I  had  slipped  over  to  the  pomegranate 
bush  and  was  groping  around  for  what  he  had 
thrown  over  the  wall."  She  had  difficulty  in  re 
pressing  a  shudder.  "  It  was  a  knife — wet." 

She  paused  a  moment.  "  Wet,"  she  repeated. 
"  On  my  hands,  and  a  little  on  my  dress,  and  I 
had  sent  him  on  the  errand.  How  would  it  look 
to  the  police?  And  there  was  another  matter. 
No  one  in  the  house  knew  I  was  out  here,  and  I 
could  not  explain  to  them  why  I  was  not  in  bed, 

as  they  thought.     So I  hid  the  knife,  as 

quickly  as  ever  I  could,  and  hurried  into  the  house 
and  up  to  my  room,  and  nobody  saw  or  heard  me. 
Then  I  went  to  the  bathroom  and  washed  my 
hands,  and  the  stain  on  my  dress.  Nobody  sus 
pected  I  had  been  out  here."  She  stopped. 
"And  that  is  all  I  know  about  it.  On  my  word 
of  honor." 

Napier,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  face  throughout 
the  recital,  believed  she  had  spoken  the  exact 
truth. 

"And  the  knife?  "he  asked. 
'  There  was  no  use  trying  to  bury  it,"  she  said. 
"  This  ground  is  too  hard,  and,  anyway,  there 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          175 

wasn't  time.  So  I "  She  moved  her  head, 

indicating  a  point  above  him.  "  I  hid  it  in  this 
tree  that  we  are  sitting  under.  If  you  were  to 
stand  on  a  chair,  as  I  did,  you  could  reach  it." 

The  tree  was  a  chinaberry,  its  foliage  quite 
impenetrable  to  the  eye.  "  I  stood  on  a  chair, 
and  drove  the  point  into  a  crutch  of  the  tree,  be 
tween  two  branches,"  she  said.  "  I  have  not 
seen  it  since." 

"  Then  it  is  still  there? "  he  queried,  without 
looking  toward  it. 

"  I  suppose  so.  If  it  had  been  found,  I  would 
surely  have  heard  of  it.  People  in  the  house  said 
the  police  were  in  the  yard,  later  that  night,  with 
flashlights,  but  they  searched  on  the  ground.  I 
did  not  hear  or  see  them.  Either  I  was  in  the 
bathroom,  getting  rid  of  the  stains,  or  I  had  gone 
to  bed.  Do  you  wonder,  with  that  knife  to  ex 
plain,  and  the  fact  that  he  was  coming  here,  that 
I  did  not  want  my  story  to  be  juggled  and 
blundered  over  by  the  police?  " 

"  How  many  people  are  in  the  house  at  this 
moment?"  Napier  asked. 

:<  Unless  some  one  has  just  come  in,  no  one  but 
the  servant  you  saw.  The  other  one  was  given 
an  afternoon  off  to  see  the  parade,  and  everybody 
who  lives  here  is  out — or  was,  a  few  moments 
ago." 

"  I  am  going  to  put  this  chair  on  the  other  side 
of  the  tree  trunk  and  get  the  knife,"  he  told  her. 
I  think  they  cannot  see  from  the  house,  even  if 
some  one  has  come  home  and  happens  to  be  look- 


176          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

ing,  but  I  suggest  you  walk  about  a  bit  with  me 
and  describe  some  of  the  vegetation.  That  tree 
over  there,  for  instance.  What  is  it?  " 

While  she  played  the  part  he  had  outlined,  he 
moved  about  with  her.  They  came,  after  a  while, 
to  the  chinaberry  tree  again.  "  I  never  saw 
thicker  foliage,"  he  remarked,  looking  up  into  it 
openly.  "Are  the  branches  extraordinarily 
thick  and  close  together,  or  is  it  entirely  the 
leaves  that  cause  the  effect?"  He  shifted  the 
chair,  stood  upon  it  and  parted  the  foliage  to  see 
for  himself,  the  upper  third  of  his  body  hidden 
in  the  leaves.  "  Perfectly  explainable,  if  any  one 
is  watching,  on  the  ground  of  my  deep  interest  in 
unfamiliar  trees  and  shrubs,"  he  said  evenly,  as 
he  stepped  down  and  replaced  the  chair  by  the 
table.  "  Now  tell  me  about  that  bush  over  by 
this  side  wall."  He  led  the  way  in  that  direction. 

"  The  knife?  "  she  whispered. 

"  In  my  breast  pocket.  There  was  a  rather 
heavy  thunder  storm  very  early  yesterday  morn- 
ing." 

"  You  mean " 

"  It  seems  to  be  washed  clean.  That  undoubt 
edly  means  there  are  no  finger  prints  left  on  it — 
including  yours." 

She  sighed  with  relief. 

'  You  don't  know  how  glad  I  am  it  is  gone 
from  the  tree.  They  might  have  decided  to  trim 
the  branches.  Well,  do  you  believe  I  have  told 
you  the  truth?  Is  it  necessary  for  you  to  tell — 
anybody?  You  see,  I  really  could  not  help  the 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          177 

police  at  all.  The  only  aid  I  could  have  been  to 
them  at  any  time  was  to  give  them  the  knife,  and 
now  you  have  it.  But  they  would  never  have  be 
lieved  that  I  did  not  know  more  than  I  do. 
Police  never  believe  anything  that  doesn't  prove 
somebody  guilty." 

"  You  haven't  told  me  what  you  know  about 
Puenta.  How  did  you  come  to  select  him  for  a 
messenger? " 

"  He  came  here  on  an  errand  and  I  spoke  to 
him  as  he  was  leaving,  and  offered  to  pay  him  for 
finding  you.  I  know  very  little  about  him ;  I  had 
seen  him  here  once  or  twice,  that  is  all." 

"  Who  had  he  come  to  see?     That  night,  I 


mean." 


"  I  don't  know.  I  saw  him  as  he  was  coming 
out.  This  is  a  sort  of  hotel,  you  know,  and  I  do 
not  know  everybody  in  it  very  well.  I  did  not 
ask  him  who  he  had  come  to  see.  I  merely  knew 
he  was  a  sort  of  errand  boy  in  the  neighborhood 
here.  If  he  could  bring  a  message  to  others,  per 
haps  he  would  take  one  for  me.  I  have  no  doubt 
the  police  know  more  about  him  than  I  do;  they 
wouldn't  need  to  ask  me  about  him  at  all."  He 
felt  sure  she  had  not  told  him  all  she  knew  about 
Puenta,  and  surmised  that  she  would  not  if  she 
could  avoid  it.  She  quite  obviously  wanted  to 
get  away  from  the  subject  of  the  little  Mexican's 
personality  and  played  a  card  (again  he  admired 
her  cleverness)  which  she  had  been  saving  for  a 
moment  like  this. 

"  When  we  made  our  little  bargain,"  she  said, 


178          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  you  didn't  make  it  a  condition  that  I  shouldn't 
tell  any  one  who  you  really  are,  because,  at  that 
minute,  you  didn't  know  I  knew.  Now  that  I 
have  told  you  all  about  it,  I  am  going  to  give  you 
good  measure,  to  prove — how  is  it  you  Americans 
say  it? — to  prove  that  my  heart  is  in  the  right 
place.  I  am  going  to  promise  not  to  say  who  you 
are  to  a  soul." 

"  How  many  people  know  it  already? "  he 
asked. 

"  None,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"  You  didn't  happen  to  mention  it  to  the 
friends  you  were  on  the  plaza  with  when  I  drove 
by,  the  other  night,  or  to  Sastanada,  this  noon?  " 

"  I  have  spoken  of  it  to  no  one.  Oh,  I  sup 
pose  it  would  have  been  the  most  natural  thing 
in  the  world,  if  I  were  a  talkative,  gossipy  person, 
for  me  to  have  leaned  over  to  whoever  was  near 
est  to  me  and  said, '  Do  you  see  that  nice-looking 
man  who  bowed  to  me?  That  is  Napier,  of  the 
United  States  Treasury  Department.  He  is  a 
great  smuggler-catcher.'  But  I  didn't.  I  have 
found  out  it  is  just  as  well  not  to  tell  all  one 
knows.  A  few  secrets,  just  for  oneself,  are  good 
to  keep." 

"And  that  matter  of  not  telling  all  one  knows," 
Napier  remarked  pleasantly,  "  brings  us  to  the 
subject  of  what  it  was  you  wanted  to  see  me 
about  Monday  night." 

She  hesitated.  "  It  wasn't  at  all  an  important 
thing,"  she  said.  "  Just  a  thing  that  came  into 
my  mind  that  I  thought  I  would  tell  you.  I  am 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          179 

very  impulsive  sometimes.  It  wasn't  important 
at  all.  If  you  don't  mind,  I  would  like  to  leave 
that  out." 

"  But  I  am  afraid  I  do  mind.  Our  bargain 
was  that  you  were  to  tell  me  the  whole  story." 

"  It  had  no  bearing  whatever  on  his  death," 
she  said.  She  stood  in  thought,  weighing,  it 
seemed  to  him,  arguments  for  and  against  frank 
ness.  He  believed,  at  one  moment,  that  she  had 
about  decided  either  to  decline  flatly  or  to  invent 
a  plausible  substitute  for  the  truth.  Then,  as 
she  meditated,  her  eyes  narrowed  slightly  and 
there  came  into  her  face  an  expression  faintly 
reminiscent  of  the  passion  that  had  marred  it 
when  she  returned  from  the  telephone. 

"  It  was  a  sudden  impulse,"  she  said.  "  I 
don't  often  act  on  impulse,  but  that  night  I 
saw  you,  and  remembered  your  work,  and  won 
dered  what  you  were  doing  here  in  San  Antonio. 
And  I  happened,  quite  by  accident,  to  have  heard 
a  whisper  as  to  a  violation  of  your  customs  laws. 
I  cannot  tell  you  how  I  heard  it.  I  mean  I  will 
not  tell,  because  that  would  bring  friends  into  it, 
who  mentioned  it  merely  in  the  way  of  gossip  and 
oughtn't  to  be  dragged  in.  It  was  about  some 
people  who  are  interested  in  smuggling  opium. 
So,  just  because  you  would  like  to  know,  and — 
and  you  looked  friendly  and  reminded  me  of  old 
times  when  I  saw  you — I  thought  I  would  get 
you  word." 

Napier  felt  positive  of  two  things  as  he 
watched  her  face.  One  was  that  she  was  speak- 


180          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

ing  the  truth  when  she  said  she  had  sent  for  him 
to  give  him  the  information  she  outlined;  the 
other  was  that  the  lame  explanation  she  was  giv 
ing  of  why  she  was  going  to  give  it  to  him  was 
absolutely  false. 

"  You  can  tell  me  now/'  he  said. 

"  I  will,"  she  decided.  "  But  I  cannot  tell  you 
more  than  the  bare  fact  without  letting  you  know 
how  I  came  to  hear  it,  and  that  would  involve 
others.  So  I  shall  not  say  a  word  further  than  to 
tell  you  who  the  people  are,  and  you  will  be  able 
to  get  the  evidence  easily  enough,  yourself.  If  I 
am  not  mistaken,  a  search " 

"  Yes?  "  he  encouraged  her,  thinking  of  Kalat 
and  the  Chinamen  at  "  the  great  house." 

"  The  man  is  a  retired  officer  of  the  United 
States  army.  He  lives  at  a  little  hotel  called  the 
Edgemont,  and  his  name  is  Captain  Glenn." 

Napier  masked  his  surprise.  "  You  said 
'  people,'  "  he  reminded  her.  "  Who  else?  " 

"  He  has  a  daughter,"  she  told  him. 

With  this  he  had  to  be  content.  She  would 
not  answer  another  question. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BACK  in  his  hotel  room,  Napier  took  the  knife 
out  of  his  pocket  and  examined  it  carefully.  It 
was  a  nasty  looking  weapon,  with  a  thin,  keen 
blade,  but  there  was  nothing  especially  distinctive 
about  it.  A  Mexican  might  have  owned  it,  or  a 
Chinaman,  or  a  Sicilian,  or  any  other  national, 
for  that  matter,  whose  preference  in  weapons  was 
for  edged  ones.  He  put  it  away  carefully  and 
went  down  to  dinner,  after  which  he  was  at  police 
headquarters  in  time  to  see  Villabosa  start  on  his 
unwilling  journey. 

Captain  Dalton  was  accompanied  by  Ranger 
Hard,  a  young  man  who,  twenty  years  hence,  if 
he  survived  the  wear  and  tear  of  his  profession  so 
long,  would  be  of  a  similar  type  to  Dalton. 
Hard  bore  out,  in  the  presence  of  Villabosa,  the 
mention  that  Dalton  had  made  of  his  probable 
dissatisfaction  at  being  called  upon  to  leave  San 
Antonio  and  a  girl — a  condition  of  mind  that 
would  not  make  him  friendly  toward  the  prisoner 
who  had  forced  him  to  make  the  trip — but  he 
grumbled  as  to  the  errand  only  once,  and  then 
apparently  not  at  all  for  Villabosa's  benefit. 
Before  the  Mexican  had  been  brought  into  the 
office,  however,  Napier  had  not  observed  that 


182          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Hard  was  suffering  from  any  lowness  of  spirits; 
if  he  had  a  girl  in  San  Antonio  he  did  not  seem 
to  be  in  despair  at  leaving  her ;  in  fact,  it  did  not 
seem  far-fetched  from  his  manner  and  comment 
to  judge  that  he  rather  fancied  the  work  the  cap 
tain  and  he  were  about  to  undertake.  "  Don't 
you  worry,"  he  said,  in  a  brief  burst  of  confidence 
to  the  treasury  agent,  his  head  jerking  in  Dai- 
ton's  direction  with  his  emphasized  word,  "  He'll 
have  him  eating  out  of  our  hands  before  he  gets 
finished.  Leave  'em  to  Cap'n  Bob !  " 

Villabosa  entered  the  back  seat  of  the  auto 
mobile,  unostentatiously,  at  a  rear  entrance  to  the 
station,  and  Hard  sat  beside  him.  Dalton 
climbed  in  behind  the  wheel,  spoke  a  cheery  good 
night  to  the  chief  and  Napier,  standing  at  the 
curb,  and  let  in  his  clutch.  Napier  did  not  see 
the  other  car  after  it  turned  the  near-by  corner, 
but  he  knew  that  if  Villabosa  were  to  see  any  of 
his  friends  as  they  passed  toward  the  outskirts  of 
town,  he  would  not  wave  or  shout  to  them.  For 
most  excellent  and  binding  reasons. 

He  had  some  time  on  his  hands  before  keeping 
an  appointment,  made  the  evening  previous,  at 
the  little  grocery  of  Kwong  Yet,  and  he  went 
back  to  the  Bonham  and  up  to  his  room.  There, 
well  pleased  with  a  day's  work  well  completed, 
Gordon  came  to  him  at  ten  o'clock,  just  as  he  was 
thinking  of  starting  for  the  Chinese  quarter. 

"Another  man  has  relieved  me — Carver,"  he 
said,  "  although  I  doubt  if  he  will  have  anything 
to  do.  However,  if  our  friend  moves  out  of  his 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          183 

house  for  any;  late  calls,  he'll  be  there  to  trail 
along  and  see  what's  doing.  I  had  a  satisfactory 
afternoon  and  evening.  Not  exciting;  merely 
satisfactory." 

"  No  trouble  keeping  track  of  him,  eh? " 

"  I  had  an  uneasy  time  for  a  while,  following 
him  in  an  automobile;  that's  always  risky,  at  the 
distance  you  have  to  keep  in  broad  daylight. 
But  I  got  along  all  right,  and  he  didn't  get  wise 
to  being  followed." 

"What  did  he  do?" 

"  Had  a  mighty  pleasant  afternoon,  if  my 
judgment  is  any  good.  I'll  tell  it  in  detail: 

"  First,  when  he  came  out  of  the  Plaza,  he  and 
the  fine-looking  woman  he  was  with  went  down 
the  street  a  block  to  the  entrance  of  a  depart 
ment  store,  and  she  went  in.  He  walked  off  as  if 
he  didn't  have  any  place  in  particular  to  go;  just 
sauntered  up  the  street,  smoking.  When  he 
came  to  Main  Plaza,  he  drifted  into  the  crowd 
and  listened  to  the  ballyhoos.  Watched  the 
folks  around  the  cane  boards  and  the  other 
games.  Went  into  two  of  the  shows.  In  other 
words,  gave  a  mighty  correct  imitation  of  a  man 
with  nothing  on  his  mind  but  a  willingness  to  be 
entertained  by  the  carnival.  He  kept  this  up  for 
two  hours.  Once  in  a  while  he  looked  at  his 
watch.  Plain  to  see  he  had  an  appointment 
later. 

"At  about  half -past  three  he  hired  an  auto 
mobile — one  of  those  public  so-much-an-hour 
cars  on  the  plaza.  I  was  lucky ;  I  knew  the  driver 


184         THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

of  another  car  that  stood  along  there^  and  knew 
he  could  be  depended  on  to  use  a  reasonable  de 
gree  of  horse  sense  in  following,  so  I  hired  him. 
Our  friend  went  to  a  little  hotel  over  here  on  the 
north  side  of  town  called  the  Edgemont.  It's  a 
little  family  place." 

"  I  know  where  it  is,"  Napier  said. 

"  He  was  gone  in  there  twenty  minutes. 
When  he  came  out  he  had  a  girl  with  him — a 
mighty  pretty  girl,  a  good  deal  younger  than  the 
other.  Her  name  is  Glenn;  I  found  that  out 
later.  They  got  into  the  car  and  took  a  ride. 
Went  around  the  North  Loop  and  when  they  got 
to  Brackenridge  Park,  on  the  way  back,  they 
turned  in  there.  Drove  around  slowly  in  the 
park,  looking  at  the  scenery.  Stopped,  finally, 
at  the  Japanese  tea  garden.  Went  in  and  had 
tea.  So  did  I. 

"  Mr.  Kalat  is  a  very  fascinating  gentleman 
with  the  ladies,  I  should  say,  and  he  was  doing 
his  best  to  please.  Everything  was  fine  and 
dandy  until  a  couple  came  in  and  passed  his 
table.  Mexican  couple,  a  man  and  a  woman. 
They  bowed  to  Kalat  and  passed  on,  but  he  was 
disturbed  about  it.  It  didn't  appear  why. 
Perhaps  because  they  saw  him  with  the  young 
lady;  at  least,  that  looked  plausible.  Is  this 
Kalat  married? " 

"  If  he  is,  it  isn't  likely  his  wife  is  where  she 
could  hear  about  it." 

"  The  Mexican  couple — nice,  high-class  look 
ing  people,  they  were — went  over  to  a  table  in 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          185 

the  further  corner  from  Kalat,  and  the  woman 
left  the  man  after  they  had  given  their  orders  and 
came  over  to  the  telephone.  The  'phone  hap 
pened  to  be  right  near  where  I  was  sitting.  I 
don't  know  whether  what  she  said  has  any  bear 
ing  on  the  case  or  not,  but  as  long  as  she  men 
tioned  his  name — that  phony  name  that  you  told 
me  this  noon  he  was  going  under — it  is  worth 
repeating,  perhaps. 

"  She  called  a  number,  and  asked — in  Spanish, 
you  understand;  I  speak  it  pretty  well — if  Senora 
Bonillas  could  come  to  the  'phone.  Then  she 
asked  who  was  there.  Then  she  said,  'All  right. 
Will  you  ask  her  to  come,  please.'  After  a  bit 
she  began  to  explain  to  somebody  that  she  and 
her  husband  had  decided  not  to  come  home  to 
dinner,  and  would  whoever  it  was  on  the  other 
end  of  the  line  tell  Senora  Bonillas,  so  she 
wouldn't  expect  them.  She  said  she  didn't  dare 
trust  any  message  to  that  fool  of  a  servant.  And 
she  said — there  was  something  malicious  about 
this,  although  she  said  it  sweetly  enough,  or  I 
don't  know  one  single  thing  about  women — she 
said,  *  Who  do  you  suppose  I  ran  into  in  the 
tea  room?  Senor  Sastanada.  And  the  pretti 
est  girl !  Ramon  ' — I  suppose  Ramon  was  this 
woman's  husband — '  was  so  envious  he  would 
hardly  look  at  me  all  the  time  we  were  having 

our  tea.     She  was Why,  how  stupid  I  am ! 

It  never  occurred  to  me  until  this  minute.  It 
was  the  same  girl  he  was  riding  with  Monday 
night,  when  he  left  her  to  join  us  just  before  the 


186         THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

parade  came  along.  You'll  tell  Senora  Bonillas 
not  to  expect  us  for  dinner,  won't  you?  Gracias/ 

"  Well,  about  that  time  Mr.  Kalat  and  Miss 
Glenn  left,  and  I  trailed  along.  They  rode 
around  in  the  park  a  little  more,  and  then 
came  into  town  and  went  to  the  Edgemont. 
After  a  while  Kalat  came  out,  paid  off  the  chauf 
feur,  and  went  back.  He  had  dinner  there,  at 
seven,  with  Miss  Glenn  and  her  father.  I  got 
the  names  from  a  friend  of  mine  behind  the  desk 
while  they  were  eating.  After  dinner  he  went 
upstairs  with  them,  to  their  rooms,  I  suppose. 
He  came  down  at  nine-fifteen,  ordered  a  car  by 
'phone,  and  went  home.  By  now,  I  reckon,  he 
is  tucked  up  nice  and  comfy  for  the  night.  I'll 
relieve  Carver  again  in  the  morning." 

"  Where  is  this  house  where  he  is  all  tucked  up 
for  the  night?  "  Napier  asked. 

"  It's  a  sort  of  cross  between  a  hotel  and  a 
high-grade  boarding-house  run  by  this  Senora 
Bonillas  I  heard  the  conversation  about.  In  the 
better  part  of  the  Mexican  quarter.  Respect 
able  enough,  in  a  way,  but  the  Mexicans  who 
stop  there  do  not  expect  their  fellow  guests  to 
pry  too  much  into  their  business.  Just  the  place 
to  suit  a  man  who  did  not  want  to  answer  many 
questions.  It's  at  311  Chiromoya  Street." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

No  one  sat  on  the  front  gallery  of  the  little 
grocery  store  as  Napier  approached,  and  the  one- 
string  fiddle  was  silent.  Except  for  a  pencil  of 
light  from  a  closed  and  curtained  window  at  the 
rear,  the  building  was  in  darkness,  but  the  front 
door  opened  instantly  to  his  guarded  tap,  and 
Kwong  Yet  motioned  (first  quickly  closing  and 
securing  the  door)  for  him  to  pass  on  to  the  living 
room  at  the  back.  Old  Kwong  Li  met  him 
there  with  a  greeting  that  fulfilled  the  require 
ments  of  simple  etiquette,  and  invited  him  to 
take  the  seat  of  honor  on  the  west  side  of  the 
room,  but  did  not  seem  to  consider  it  necessary 
to  go  further  into  ceremony,  a  gratifying  de 
cision. 

The  young  Chinaman  filled  tobacco  pipes  and 
presented  them  to  his  uncle  and  the  guest.  Old 
Kwong  smoked  a  moment  and  then  came  to  the 
object  of  Napier's  call  with  unusual  directness. 

"  This  day,  since  noon,  I  have  tended  the 
grocery,"  he  said,  adding  complacently,  "  I  have 
not  forgotten  how  to  trade  profitably.  While  I 
was  here,  Kwong  Yet  has  been  taking  a  holiday. 
You  will  tell  him,  Kwong  Yet." 

"All  the  afternoon  and  all  the  evening,  until 
ten  o'clock,  I  have  been  at  places  where  fan-tan 


188          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

is  played,"  Yet  obeyed.     "  I  have  gambled  much 
money." 

"  It  would  not  be  the  part  of  a  friend  for  me 
not  to  reimburse  you  for  the  losses,  seeing  they 
were  made  on  my  errand,"  Napier  said. 

'  There  were  no  losses,"  Kwong  Yet  told  him 
simply.  "  On  the  contrary.  So  the  day  passed 
until  well  into  the  evening,  and  I  had  not  met  any 
man  who  would  be  valuable  to  me.  Then  I  fell 
in  with  one  who  is  of  the  Society  of  the  Fragrant 
Lily,  whose  losses  had  been  considerable  and 
whose  head  was  muddled  with  the  fumes  of 
poppy.  I  loaned  him  a  little  money  when  his 
was  gone,  and  afterward  I  went  home  with  him 
and  smoked  tobacco  while  he  had  a  pipe  of  opium. 
Three  pills.  He  did  not  realize  how  much  he 
told  me;  I  was  able  to  make  him  think  I  already 
knew." 

The  young  Chinaman  paused  a  moment  and 
went  on,  as  evenly  as  before: 

"If  he  remembers  all  he  told  me,  and  asks 
those  in  authority  whether  it  was  right  for  him  to 
speak  of  it,  I  think  my  days  draw  toward  their 
end.  However " 

"  '  If  a  man  in  the  morning  hear  the  right  way, 
he  may  die  in  the  evening  without  regret/  ' 
quoted   old   Kwong   from   the   sayings    of   the 
Master. 

"  However,"  Kwong  Yet  went  on,  after  a  re 
spectful  wait  to  make  sure  his  uncle  had  finished 
speaking,  "  I  do  not  think  he  will  remember, 
and  if  he  does  I  think  he  will  be  more  afraid  to 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          189 

tell  than  not  to  tell.  What  sentence  would  be 
passed  on  me,  for  knowing,  would  hardly  be  less 
than  that  passed  upon  him  for  talking.  No,  I 
think  he  will  not  speak  of  the  matter." 

Napier  waited  in  patience. 

"As  to  the  great  house,"  Kwong  Yet  pro 
ceeded,  "  it  is,  as  you  thought,  the  headquarters 
of  those  who  deal  in  bitter  cargoes.  Ng  Choy, 
who  goes  here  under  the  name  of  Charles  Toy,  is 
the  master  of  those  who  are  of  our  people,  but 
there  are  said  to  be  white  men  who  are  chief  above 
him.  My  drowsy-headed  friend  does  not  know 
who  they  are.  He  does  not  even  know  whether 
they  live  here  in  San  Antonio  or  elsewhere.  They 
could  be  in  Mexico,  or  near  the  border." 

Again  old  Kwong  quoted,  this  time  from  the 
Book  of  Poetry: 

"  '  In  hewing  an  axe-handle,  the  pattern  is  not 
far  off.' ' 

"  I  think  likely  that  is  so,"  his  nephew  agreed. 
"  So  I  asked  what  white  men  came  to  the  house. 
There  are  three.  My  friend  did  not  know  the 
names  of  any  of  them.  He  might  have  heard 
them,  he  said,  but  he  could  not  be  expected  to  re 
member,  because  they  are  barbarous."  Kwong 
Yet  inclined  his  head  deferentially  toward 
Napier,  as  though  to  say,  "  You  understand  my 
meaning  of  '  barbarous  '  is  merely  '  unpronounce 
able.'  ' 

"Did  he  describe  the  white  men?"  Napier 
asked. 

"  Somewhat.     Two  are  Mexicans,  he  thinks. 


190          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Of  these  one  is  round  and  very  black  of  hair. 
The  other  is  older,  somewhat  gray,  and  has  been 
sick  at  some  time  of  the  demon's  breath  so  that 
there  are  marks  on  each  side  of  his  nose.  The 
third  man  who  comes  is  an  American.  He  is 
tall,  and  thin,  and  old.  My  friend  has  heard  that 
he  was  once  in  the  American  army." 
"  Which  of  them  seems  to  be  chief?  " 
"  The  smoking  one  did  not  know.  He  did  not 
even  know  that  they  are  concerned  in  the  matter, 
except  that  they  come  to  the  house  to  see  Ng 
Choy.  One  other  thing,  however,  he  was  more 
positive  about.  You  asked  me  to  learn  about  the 
kind  and  quality  of  the  bitter  cargoes.  My 
friend  is  very  sure  they  are  not  concerned  with 
anything  but  opium.  If  there  were  diamonds, 
such  as  you  mentioned,  or  other  things  except 
opium,  he  would  know,  he  said.  He  told  me 
there  is  a  strict  accounting  among  the  members 
for  the  profits — large  shares  for  the  leaders;  small 
shares  for  the  lesser  ones ;  but  an  accounting,  with 
an  exact  division.  The  opium  comes  to  the  big 
house,  but  he  does  not  know  where  it  is  kept  be 
fore  it  is  sold.  It  may  leave  there  for  some 
better  hiding  place  very  soon  after  its  arrival.  It 
is  brought  by  a  messenger  from  near  the  Mex 
ican  border." 

'  You  mean  from  the  other  side?  " 

"  From  this  side.     The  messenger  who  brings 

it  to  San  Antonio  does  not  know  how  it  conies 

across  the  river,  and  no  one  but  the  chiefs  and 

the  messenger  himself  know  from  whom  he  re- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          191 

ceives  it  on  this  side;  that  is  a  secret  from  the 
ordinary  members.  The  messenger  departs  from 
here  and  returns,  with  ten  or  twenty  or  thirty 
cans,  as  the  case  may  be.  It  is  not  known  that 
those  cans  come  across  the  river  all  at  one  time. 
Perhaps  they  are  gathered  together  in  small  lots, 
one  and  two  and  three  corning  in  at  one  time  and 
one  and  two  and  three  coming  in  at  another,  until 
there  is  sufficient  on  hand  for  the  messenger  to  be 
sent.  As  to  this  my  talkative  friend  does  not 
know ;  he  says  none  of  the  lesser  ones  know.  Just 
at  this  moment,  unless  one  has  been  selected 
within  a  day,  there  is  no  messenger  to  go  to  the 
border  for  the  supply.  And  that  brings  us  to 
your  matter  of  a  Mexican  who  was  killed.  He 
was  the  messenger.  And  he  did  not  keep  his  lips 
locked." 

"  How  did  they  know?  Had  your  opium- 
smoking  friend  heard? " 

"  He  knew  when  they  heard,  and  where.  Joe 
Fong,  he  who  is  half  Chinese  and  half  Mexican, 
spoke  over  the  telephone  at  the  restaurant  of 
Ng  Choy.  Then  he  came  hastily  and  called  for 
three  men  who  are  waiters  there  and  who  belong 
to  the  society.  He  went  with  them,  making  four, 
and  it  is  said  there  were  two  more — from  the 
great  house,  perhaps.  There  were  six  ways  the 
Mexican  might  approach,  and  they  spread  to 
meet  him  by  whatever  road  he  came.  I  do  not 
know  which  one  was  chosen  by  heaven  to  strike. 
Is  it  of  any  importance?  Whichever  one  met 
him  was  a  proper  executioner.  He  had  been  a 


192          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

traitor  to  the  tong  that  trusted  him,  so  he  went 
speedily  to  join  the  departed."  This,  quite  ob 
viously,  was  to  Kwong  Yet's  mind  exactly  as  it 
should  be. 

"  It  is  of  importance,"  Napier  said. 

"  Then  I  will  inquire  into  it  further."  The 
promise  was  made  courteously  and  sincerely ;  far 
be  it  from  him,  the  young  Chinaman's  manner 
said,  to  attempt  to  delve  into  the  workings  of  a 
white  official's  brain.  Napier,  with  his  knowl 
edge  of  China  and  Chinese,  ought  to  understand 
that  this  execution  had  been  quite  regular,  and 
probably  did,  but  he  was  bound  by  the  laws  of 
America,  which  are  usually  unreasonable  and  pot 
at  all  to  be  comprehended. 

"  It  is  of  importance,  also,  to  learn  if  the  opium 
is  kept  at  the  great  house,  qr,  if  not,  where," 
Napier  went  on.  *  You  know,  of  course,  that  I 
would  seize  it.  It  would  not  do  to  search  a  place 
where  it  was  not,  for  they  would  be  warned." 

"  I  will  try  to  learn  as  to  that,  too.  I  regret 
I  have  failed  to  find  out  all  you  wished.  I  am 
slow  and  dull." 

"  You  are  rapid  and  alert,"  Napier  amended, 
making  the  reply  that  politeness  required  to  his 
purely  rhetorical  deprecation.  "  Yet  I  would 
know  a  little  more,  and  I  will  come  again  to 
morrow  night  at  this  hour,  or  the  night  after,  if 
I  may." 

"  Is  it  not  your  house?  "  protested  old  Kwong. 
"  Shall  a  man  ask  permission  to  come  into  his 
own? " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL'          193 

"  One  thing  more.  You  named  three  white 
men  who  come  to  the  house  of  Ng  Choy.  Did 
he  who  smoked  and  talked  speak  of  any  white 
women? " 

"  None."  Kwong  Yet  had  an  opinion  as  to 
this  and  expressed  it.  "  Ng  Choy  is  a  wise  man. 
He  would  not  trust  such  a  matter  as  this  to  the 
discretion  of  any  woman." 

"  But  the  white  men  might,"  the  older  China 
man  said.  And  Kwong  Yet,  again  reminded  of 
the  incomprehensible  ways  of  barbarian  peoples, 
inclined  his  head  and  replied,  "  I  did  not  think 
of  that.  It  is  true." 

Napier  produced  the  weapon  that  Madame 
Frezzi  had  hidden  in  the  tree  and  laid  it  on  the 
table.  "  There  is  the  knife  that  killed  the  mes 
senger,"  he  said.  "  Does  it  tell  you  any  story?  " 

Both  the  others  examined  it  dispassionately. 
"  It  means  nothing  to  me,"  the  older  one  said. 
"  It  is  certainly  not  of  any  unusual  make  or  pat 
tern.  I  have  seen  fifty  knives  near  enough  like 
it  to  have  been  fashioned  the  same  day  by  the 
same  hand." 

"  I  myself  have  one  almost  like  it  and  another 
that  does  not  differ  except  as  to  the  thickness  of 
the  blade,"  Kwong  Yet  added.  "  I  think  you 
will  not  trace  it  to  its  owner." 

"All  the  more  need  for  you  to  make  inquiry," 
Napier  remarked,  as  he  wrapped  the  weapon 
again  and  restored  it  to  his  pocket.  "  It  is  need 
ful  that  I  know  who  handled  it." 

"  Six  there  were,"  said  old  Kwong  Li,  thought- 


194          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

fully.  "  It  could  have  been  any  one  of  the  six. 
But  I  shall  burn  scented  sticks  to-night  before 
the  spirits  of  those  who  sit  honorably  on  high,  to 
the  end  that  it  shall  prove  to  be  that  sneering- 
faced,  loud-mouthed  son  of  disgraced  ancestors 
who  jibed  at  my  years  and  my  music,  and  caused 
me  to  lose  face  with  my  neighbors  if  any  heard." 
He  spoke  regretfully.  "  If  one  of  the  other  five 
did  the  killing  I  shall  be  sorry,  although  he  is  no 
clansman  of  mine,  because  you  will  punish  him 
under  your  laws,  and  he  has  only  done  a  just 
thing.  But  if  Joe  Fong  did  it  I  shall  be  glad, 
because  he  is  an  incumbrance  on  the  flatness  of 
the  earth,  and  it  would  be  better  if  his  breath  and 
his  body  occupied  separate  places." 

The  old  man  shrewdly  realized  whither  this 
outburst  might  lead  in  Napier's  mind,  and  he 
rose  to  his  feet  with  hand  extended. 

"  Notwithstanding  which,"  he  said  gravely,  "  I 
will  strike  palms  with  you  and  promise  by  my 
forbears  whom  I  honor  that  the  name  that  shall 
be  given  to  you  by  Kwong  Yet  or  by  me  shall  be 
the  true  one,  whether  it  be  the  name  of  Joe  Fong 
or  another." 

Napier's  palm  met  his,  arid  the  younger 
Chinaman  also  stretched  forth  his  hand.  "As 
my  uncle,  so  also  do  I  promise,"  he  said.  Where 
upon  Napier,  who  for  a  moment  had  been  un 
easy  in  his  mind  regarding  the  value  of  their 
prospective  information,  knew  that  Fong  was 
safe  from  the  punishment  of  the  law  unless  he 
had  really  been  the  murderer.  Whether  he  was 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          195 

safe  from  Kwong  Li  and  his  brother's  son  was 
quite  another  matter  and  one  outside  his  respon 
sibility  or  concern. 

He  returned  to  the  Bonham  and  found  a 
long  cipher  telegram  in  his  box  from  his  chief  in 
Washington.  Decoding  it  was  a  long  but  inter 
esting  occupation,  as  the  information  it  contained 
grew  slowly  under  his  pencil.  As  finally  trans 
lated,  it  read: 


Paris  has  secured  information  you  asked 
regarding  Madame  Lucia  Frezzi  through 
French  Intelligence  Department.  Her  na 
tionality  is  not  positively  known,  but  believed 
to  be  Greek,  although  while  in  France  she 
claimed  Italian  allegiance.  Prior  to  the  war 
she  resided  principally  in  Paris,  supposed  by 
the  French  to  be  engaged  in  lesser  diplomatic 
espionage  work  in  behalf  of  Italy.  When 
Italy  joined  the  allies,  inquiries  regarding 
Frezzi  were  made  at  Rome  which  developed 
the  information  (Italy  having  in  some  man 
ner  become  aware  of  her  true  allegiance) 
that  she  had  never  been  in  the  Italian  service 
but  was  employed  by  Turkey.  She  was 
probably  aware  of  this  investigation,  for  she 
crossed  to  Spain  before  the  French  could 
arrest  her. 

Madrid  informs  us  she  remained  in  Spain 
a  short  time  and  then  sailed  for  New  York. 
Passport  showed  Spanish  nationality.  She 
has  since  resided  in  and  near  New  York, 
with  a  few  visits  to  Washington.  Has  not 


196          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

been  under  espionage,  of  course.  Regret 
this  is  the  limit  of  our  information. 

Have  been  able  to  get  the  following  ad 
ditional  data  concerning  Captain  Glenn: 

From  former  army  associates,  confi 
dential,  we  learn  that  he  was  requested  to 
resign  from  army  because  he  had  become  an 
opium  addict.  When  under  influence,  he 
associated  with  Chinese.  There  was  nothing 
against  him  except  this  habit  and  he  was 
allowed  to  quit  with  a  clear  record.  From 
Cleveland  we  learn  he  has  taken  treatment 
two  or  three  times  in  attempt  to  break  the 
habit,  without  permanent  results,  and  that 
he  is  believed  to  have  gone  South  because  of 
supposed  greater  ease  in  procuring  drug 
near  the  border. 

Relative  to  Frezzi  report,  it  is  at  least  in 
teresting  to  remember  that  during  all  the 
period  while  she  was  employed  by  Turkey  at 
Paris,  the  Ottoman  government  was  con 
trolled  by  the  party  to  which  Kalat  belonged, 
and  that  he  had  charge  of  many  of  its  espion 
age  activities. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

DALTON'S  car  had  gone  five  miles  or  more  be 
yond  the  city  limits  when  the  captain  looked  over 
his  shoulder  and  addressed  Ranger  Hard: 

"  You  might  take  that  gag  out  now,  I  reckon. 
Better  leave  the  cuffs  on;  they  won't  give  him  no 
discomfort  to  speak  of.  If,  when  we  are  going 
through  any  village  or  passing  another  car,  or 
anything,  he  takes  a  notion  to  yawp,  bend  a  pis 
tol-barrel  against  the  side  of  his  head." 

"  I  shore  will,"  Hard  promised  grimly,  as  he 
removed  the  impediment  to  Villabosa's  speech. 
His  voice  and  manner  implied  that  he  was  still 
thinking  of  the  girl  he  had  been  forced  to  leave 
behind  in  San  Antonio. 

Villabosa  did  not  "  yawp."  He  sat  perfectly 
quiet  in  the  corner  of  the  covered  car  and  took 
no  chances.  After  a  time  he  dozed,  and  finally 
he  slept.  All  night  the  car  drove  ahead,  most 
of  the  time  over  roads  that  were  far  from  being 
state  highways.  The  sun  had  risen  when  they 
turned  off  toward  a  small  farmhouse  that  stood 
well  back  from  the  road, — Dalton's  little  prop 
erty  in  San  Miguel  County. 

A  youngish,  red-haired,  competent  looking 
man  came  out  of  the  house  and  awaited  the 
stopping  of  the  car  by  the  gallery.  He  said, 


198          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Mawnin',  cap'n,"  quite  as  though  Dalton  were 
in  the  habit  of  appearing  at  this  hour,  nodded  to 
Hard,  and  eyed  Villabosa  as  the  captain  ordered 
him  to  the  ground.  Dalton  got  out  himself  and 
took  off  the  prisoner's  handcuffs. 

"  Gentleman  I've  brought  to  stay  with  us  a 
few  days — maybe  more  an'  maybe  less,  depend 
ing,"  he  explained.  "  I  reckon,  if  you  don't 
mind,  we'd  all  like  a  little  breakfast.  After  that, 
Hard  and  me  need  some  sleep.  Prob'ly  our 
friend  does,  too.  However,  it  wouldn't  be  fitten 
for  everybody  to  sleep  all  at  once.  You  wasn't 
doing  anything  that  would  prevent  you  keeping 
an  eye  on  him  while  we  catch  up  a  little,  was  you, 
Jim? " 

"  Nothing  a-tall,  cap'n,"  the  farmer  replied. 
"  Me,  I  went  to  bed  with  the  little  birds  and  got 
up  with  the  same,  and  I  ain't  got  nothing  im 
portant  on  my  mind  to-day  a-tall."  He  entered 
the  house  and  began  to  prepare  a  second  break 
fast.  Villabosa  chafed  his  wrists  gently  and 
gloomed  in  silence.  Except  when  addressed, 
which  had  been  only  two  or  three  times,  he  had 
not  spoken  all  night. 

"  Mr.  Manning  here  will  look  out  for  you," 
Dalton  told  him  crisply,  when  they  had  eaten. 
"  You  can  take  that  cot-bed  in  that  front  room 
there  and  sleep  as  long  as  you  want  to.  If  you 
want  to  move  around  any,  ask  him.  It  won't  be 
healthy  to  try  it  otherwise.  Jim,  I  want  to  talk 
to  you  outside." 

They  were  gone  five  minutes,  while  Banger 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          199 

Hard  smoked  a  cigarette  and  yawned  mightily. 
When  they  came  in,  Manning  went  through  into 
another  room  and  came  back  with  a  pistol  in  its 
holster  hanging  from  his  belt.  Villabosa's  lip 
curled. 

"  If  you  think  I  am  going  to  try  to  get  away," 
he  sneered  at  Dal  ton,  "  you  are  mistaken.  No. 
That  would  be  playing  your  game.  '  Shot  while 
trying  to  escape.'  No,  thank  you.  If  you  mur 
der  me  you  will  do  it  in  cold  blood.  I  shall  not 
give  you  the  excuse." 

"  You're  safer  thataway,"  Dalton  commented 
dryly.  He  and  Hard  went  into  the  back  room, 
whence,  very  soon,  came  sounds  of  their  slumber. 
Villabosa,  stretched  on  the  cot  the  captain  had 
pointed  out,  also  slept.  Only  Jim  Manning  re 
mained  awake,  sitting  by  the  window  where  he 
had  the  prisoner  in  full  sight,  smiling  once  in  a 
while  to  himself  at  the  recollection  of  that  five 
minutes'  conversation  he  had  had  with  Dalton, 
no  part  of  which  had  been  on  the  subject  of  safely 
guarding  the  Mexican.  At  noon  he  got  his 
dinner  so  quietly  that  none  of  the  sleepers 
wakened.  Toward  mid-afternoon,  Dalton  and 
Hard  came  to  life  and  ate.  Villabosa  was  al 
ready  awake,  but  they  paid  little  attention  to 
him.  After  he  had  been  given  food  and  tobacco 
he  returned  to  the  cot.  Manning  went  about  his 
farm  work  and  Ranger  Hard  took  his  place  as 
guard.  Dalton  mentioned  in  Villabosa's  hearing 
that  he  didn't  believe  the  people  who  wanted  to 
identify  the  prisoner  would  be  over  before  the 


200          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

next  day,  or  perhaps  the  day  after  that.  He  im 
plied  that  he  had  written  a  letter  to  some  sheriff 
about  it. 

Something  happened  in  the  evening  that  Villa- 
bosa  could  not  understand.  Manning,  at  supper, 
had  seemed  a  little  sullen,  and  Dalton  and  he  had 
exchanged  few  words.  Later,  they  went  out 
and  stood  talking  near  the  shed  that  sheltered 
agricultural  implements  and  the  automobile. 
Villabosa  could  not  hear  what  they  said,  but  their 
voices  were  slightly  raised.  He  was  quite  sure 
they  were  arguing,  and  -not  in  best  of  temper. 
Finally  Dalton,  from  the  sound,  turned  toward 
the  house  and  Manning  said  something  while  he 
was  on  his  way.  The  captain  spoke  sharply  in 
reply  over  his  shoulder,  and  now  his  words 
reached  Villabosa's  ears.  "  You  can  do  exactly 
as  you  please  about  that,  Jim,"  he  said.  "  Stay 
or  leave ;  it  don't  make  no  difference  to  me  a-tall. 
Think  it  over  and  let  me  know  in  the  mawnin'." 

Then  Dalton  came  in  and  took  a  nap.  Man 
ning  entered  the  house  some  time  later  and  went 
to  bed  without  a  word.  Hard  remained  on 
guard  until  midnight,  when  he  woke  Dalton,  who 
took  his  place. 

Villabosa  found  it  hard  to  get  to  sleep.  He 
was  puzzled  at  their  tactics.  Quite  clearly  it  was 
not  their  intention  to  put  him  in  jail  or  otherwise 
lock  him  up,  but  they  had  no  notion  of  letting 
him  out  of  their  sight.  The  unusualness  of  this 
procedure  worried  him.  He  was  free  to  eat,  to 
sleep,  to  get  up  and  move  around  (always  under 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          201 

somebody's  eye)  and  to  make  himself  as  comfort 
able  as  he  pleased,  yet  he  would  have  felt  some 
how  safer  behind  the  doors  and  bolts  of  a  jail. 
His  last  waking  recollection  was  of  the  Ranger 
captain  sitting  by  the  window,  smoking,  wide 
awake,  stern. 

When  he  awoke  in  the  morning  he  was  first 
conscious  that  there  was  no  one  sitting  in  the 
chair  by  the  window.  Next  he  realized  that 
voices  were  coming  from  the  room  in  which  the 
two  Rangers  slept.  The  walls  were  thin,  and 
although  the  voices  were  pitched  low,  he  could 
make  out  nearly  every  word.  He  closed  his 
eyes,  against  the  possibility  of  a  sudden  opening 
of  the  door,  and  listened  intently. 

"  But  I've  got  to  go  to  town;  you  know  that," 
Dalton  was  saying.  "  You've  just  natchully  got 
to  do  it." 

There  was  the  sound  of  some  one  moving  to 
get  out  of  bed  and  falling  back  again. 

"  Gee !  "  Hard  exclaimed.  "  My  head  goes 
around  like  one  of  these  flying  hawse  things  at 
the  carnival.  I  kain't,  cap'n.  I  don't  know 
when  I  ever  been  so  dizzy.  It's  my  stummick,  I 
reckon.  I'll  prob'ly  be  all  right  by  and  by.  It 
must  be  something  I  et." 

There  was  a  brief  silence.  "  Well,  if  you 
kain't,  I  s'pose  you  kain't,"  Dalton  said.  "  But 
it  shore  leaves  me  in  a  fine  mess,  having  to  go  to 
town  and  a  prisoner  to  watch,  and  Manning 
quitting." 

"  Maybe,  in  a  little  while,  I'll  be  able  to  get 


202          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

up.  I'd  be  all  right  now,  I  guess,  if  my  head 
didn't  go  around  so  like  blazes.  I  can  watch  this 
Mex  all  right." 

"And  have  him  jump  you,  maybe,  and  you 
toppling  over,  if  you  moved  quick.  Not  any," 
Dalton  decided.  "  But  I've  got  to  go,  just  the 
same.  With  only  you  and  me  left  when  Man 
ning  goes,  we've  got  to  get  another  one  of  the 
boys  down,  and  I've  got  to  telephone  for  him. 
Why  the  thunder  couldn't  Manning  wait  until 
some  time  when  I  didn't  absolutely  have  to  have 
an  extra  man  here?  " 

"  Maybe  he  had  that  in  mind,"  Hard  sug 
gested.  "  He  didn't  look,  when  we  came  in  yes 
terday  mawnin',  like  he  was  aimin'  to  start  some 
thing.  It  come  to  him  afterward.  Held  you 
up  good  and  plenty,  did  he?  " 

"  He  didn't  get  away  with  it.  I  told  him  he 
could  stay  for  what  he  is  getting,  or  go.  Well, 
he's  got  to  stay  through  to-day,  till  I  get  back 
from  town,  anyway,  if  I  have  to  call  upon  him  to 
do  it  in  the  name  of  the  Service.  He'll  watch  the 
Mex  and  get  vou  what  you  want  to  eat." 

"  Eat !  "  ejaculated  Hard.     "  Ugh !  " 

"And  I'll  get  back  as  soon  as  I  can.  Ought 
to  be  here  by  noon  or  a  little  after.  Then  Man 
ning  can  go  as  soon  as  he  likes.  I  didn't  believe 
Jim'd  act  like  this.  Him  and  me  are  off  being 
friends  for  good." 

Hard's  voice  expressed  curiosity,  tempered  by 
discomfort. 

"  Did  he — ugh!     I  moved  my  head  like  a  fool 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          20a 

and  started  it  to  spinning  again — did  he  get  mad 
and  talk  rough,  cap'n?  " 

"  He  didn't  talk  rough,  not  to  me"  Dalton  said 
grimly.  "  He  knew  better.  But  he  was  good 
and  mad,  all  right.  I  told  him  where  he  got  off 
on  this  man's  place,  and  he  didn't  take  to  it." 

Footsteps  came  around  the  house,  and  there 
were  sounds,  in  the  kitchen,  of  breakfast  prepara 
tions.  The  voices  in  the  next  room  stopped,  and 
Dalton  came  out  and  went  toward  the  back  of  the 
house.  Villabosa  kept  his  eyes  closed,  breathing 
evenly.  After  a  minute  he  heard  voices  in  the 
kitchen,  short,  choppy  sentences  from  both  Dal 
ton  and  Manning,  but  could  not  make  out  any 
words.  He  awoke  officially,  signalling  the  event 
by  a  prodigious  stretching,  and  got  up. 

Except  that  Manning  and  Dalton  spoke  no 
more  than  was  necessary  during  breakfast,  there 
were  no  visible  signs  of  the  difficulty.  Ranger 
Hard's  absence  from  the  table  was  not  explained, 
As  soon  as  he  had  finished  eating,  the  captain 
went  out  and  tinkered  with  his  car.  He  drove 
away,  not  long  after,  and  Manning,  after  look 
ing  in  on  Hard  and  perhaps  finding  him  asleep, 
as  they  did  not  speak,  came  and  sat  by  the  win 
dow  in  the  room  with  Villabosa.  He  was  scowl 
ing,  and  once  or  twice  the  Mexican  saw  his  lips 
move.  He  was  mentally  reciting,  apparently, 
the  things  he  wished  he  had  nerve  enough  to  say 
to  Captain  Dalton. 

"  Can  I  go  outside?  It's  hot  in  here,"  Villa 
bosa  asked,  after  a  time. 


204          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Manning  nodded,  and  followed  the  Mexican, 
who  carried  a  chair  out  on  the  gallery  and  to  the 
end  of  it  farthest  from  the  room  where  Hard  lay 
and,  he  was  quite  sure,  out  of  hearing  of  it. 
Manning  took  along  another  chair  and  they  made 
themselves  comfortable.  More  than  a  half  hour 
passed  without  a  word.  Then  Villabosa,  his 
voice  only  loud  enough  to  reach  Manning's  ears, 
began  to  carry  out  the  plan  he  had  been  formu 
lating  ever  since  he  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to 
awake  and  overhear  Dalton  and  Hard. 

"  Want  to  make  twenty-five  dollars? "  he 
asked. 

Manning  turned  cold  and  suspicious  eyes  in 
his  direction  and  let  them  rove  away  again 
before  he  replied  with  an  uninterested  monosyl 
lable: 

"  No." 

"  Fifty? " 

"  No." 

Villabosa  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  a  shadow 
passed  over  his  face.  "  I  can't  bid  higher,"  he 
said.  *  What  I  wanted  is  not  wrong — and  no 
one  in  the  world  would  ever  know  you  did  me 
the  favor." 

Three  minutes  passed.     Then : 

"How?" 

"  Carry  a  little  note  for  me  to  a  friend."  As 
Manning  did  not  reply,  he  added:  "  There  will 
be  nothing  whatever  in  it  except  word  that  I  am 
a  prisoner.  It  will  be  up  to  him  to  do  what  needs 
to  be  done." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          205 

"  Habeas  corpus,  I  s'pose,"  Manning  sug 
gested. 

"  Yes.  They  did  not  let  me  get  word  to  any 
body  that  I  was  arrested."  Villabosa  sighed.  "  I 
didn't  suppose  you  would  do  it,  but  there  is  no 
body  else.  It  wouldn't  please  your  friend  Cap 
tain  Dalton,  of  course.  It  would  put  a — crimp, 
is  it  not? — a  crimp  in  his  plans.  It  would  be 
lawful  and  right  that  somebody  should  know  I 
was  arrested,  but  that  would  not  please  him.  I 
admit  that.  You  will  tell  him,  of  course,  that  I 
asked  you,  but  that  doesn't  make  any  difference. 
I  told  him  I  should  get  word  to  my  friends  some 
how.  He  doesn't  know  for  sure  that  I  haven't 
already  done  it,"  He  paused.  "  Neither  do  I, 
for  that  matter.  I  tried,  in  the  police  station  at 
San  Antonio,  and  some  of  those  messages  may 
have  gone  through.  He  won't  know,  when  my 
friends  act,  how  they  found  out  about  it." 

Perhaps  five  minutes  more  passed  without  a 
word  from  either.  Manning's  face  was  expres 
sionless,  his  eyes  on  a  distant  clump  of  live-oak 
trees  that  shaded  a  little  creek.  Finally  he  asked: 

"  Who  to? " 

;<  No,"  Villabosa  said,  smiling  slightly.  "  I 
am  not  as  simple  as  that." 

"  Where  is  he?     San  'Ntonio?  " 

"  Not  as  far  as  San  Antonio,  but  not  in  this 
county,  either.  I  suppose  you  couldn't  leave 
this  place  to  deliver  it  without  explaining  to  Cap 
tain  Dalton.  I  had  thought  maybe  you  could 
get  a  few  days  off  on  some  excuse,  and  earn  a 


206          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

little  bit  of  dinero  on  the  side.  Maybe  you 
couldn't." 

"  How  come  you've  got  as  much  as  fifty  dollars 
on  you?  "  Manning  asked,  after  a  little.  "  Didn't 
they  take  your  money  away?  " 

"  I  haven't,"  the  Mexican  told  him  promptly. 
"  I  haven't  got  a  cent.  The  payment  would  be 
made  on  the  other  end  when  you  delivered  the 
message." 

' '  Proud  chance ! ' '  Manning  remarked.  ' 4  Noth 
ing  doing." 

Another  period  of  silence  ensued.  "  I  have 
money,"  Villabosa  said.  "  Not  much " — has 
tily — "  but  a  little.  The  man  I  want  to  send  word 
to  is  a  man  with  money.  He  would  pay  as  much 
as  fifty  dollars — or  more — on  my  written  order. 
You  would  only  have  to  gamble  enough  of  your 
own  money  to  get  to  him,  and  that  would  not  be 
much.  I  would  expect  to  add  that  to  the  fifty — 
your  expenses  to  get  to  him  and  get  back." 

Manning  got  up  and  went  into  the  house. 
Villabosa  smiled  slightly  as  he  heard  him  cross 
the  front  room  and  look  in  upon  Ranger  Hard. 
After  a  moment  or  two  he  came  back  and  hitched 
his  chair  a  little  nearer  to  the  Mexican  before  he 
sat  down. 

"  Then  when  he  gets  the  message  he  tells  me  to 
go  take  a  running  jump  at  myself,"  he  remarked. 

"  I  thought  of  that.  I  will  give  you  two  notes. 
One  of  them  tells  him  to  pay  you  the  sixty-five 
dollars — fifteen  dollars  for  expenses — and  the 
other  tells  him  I  am  arrested.  You  do  not  give 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          207 

him  the  second  one  until  he  has  paid  you  the 
sixty-five." 

"  The  hundred,"  Manning  corrected  him. 
"  Seventy-five  dollars  for  doing  the  errand  and 
twenty-five  for  expenses." 

"  He  might  not  be  willing  to  advance  me  that 
much,"  Villabosa  hesitated. 

"  If  you're  good  for  fifty  with  him,  you're 
prob'ly  good  for  a  hundred — if  you  make  that 
first  note  strong  enough." 

It  was  Villabosa's  turn  to  sit  in  silence,  con 
sidering.  He  said,  then: 

"  I  need  paper  and  pencil.     And  envelopes." 

Manning  went  into  the  house  and  came  out 
with  a  pencil,  a  pad  and  one  envelope.  '  The 
first  note  don't  need  to  be  in  no  envelope,"  he 
remarked,  significantly, — "  the  one  I  give  him 
that  tells  him  about  the  hundred.  I'll  want  to 
know  it  is  written  right." 

"  You  can  read  it.  That  is,  if  you  can  read 
Spanish.  I  can't  write  English." 

"  I  don't  read  Spanish  much,"  Manning  said, 
"  but  maybe  I  can  read  enough  to  know  the  sub 
stance  of  what  you're  saying."  He  looked  un 
easily  toward  the  road.  "  Better  get  busy.  The 
cap'n  didn't  aim  to  get  home  before  evenin',  but 
he  might  make  it  quicker'n  he  thought.  Or 
Hard  might  come  out." 

Villabosa  wrote  hurriedly. 

The  first  note,  when  it  was  finished,  he  handed 
to  Manning,  who  pored  over  it  slowly.  He 
couldn't  make  out  every  word,  having  told  the 


208          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

truth  when  he  said  he  didn't  read  Spanish  well, 
but  he  spoke  the  language  quite  fluently,  al 
though  ungrammatically,  and  he  was  able  to  see 
that  Villabosa  had  put  nothing  in  that  he  had 
agreed  to  leave  out.  He  handed  it  back  and 
commanded:  "  Read  it  out  loud." 

"  'Very  important,'  "  Villabosa  read.  "  *  Please 
pay  to  the  man  who  gives  you  this  letter  one  hun 
dred  dollars,  which  I  agree  to  repay  to  you  at  the 
first  possible  moment.  When  you  have  paid  it, 
he  will  give  you  another  letter,  which  contains  in 
formation  worth  more  than  one  hundred  dollars 
to  both  of  us. — Salvador  Villabosa.' ' 

"  You  haven't  put  his  name  at  the  top,"  Man 
ning  objected. 

"  No.  And  it  is  better  that  I  should  not.  I 
tell  you  the  name  and  the  address,  and  when  he 
receives  it,  he  will  know." 

"All  right;  it's  you  that's  tryin'  to  get  loose. 
If  you  don't  play  your  cards  right,  it  hurts  you 
worse'n  it  does  me.  I  think,"  Manning  said, 
as  an  afterthought,  "  I  think  I'll  need  to  look  at 
the  other  letter,  too.  I  gotta  make  sure  there 
isn't  anything  in  it  that  gives  me  away." 

Villabosa  went  to  work  on  the  second  letter. 
He  looked  up  once  to  ask,  "  How  do  I  describe 
this  place?  I  have  to  tell  him  where  I  am." 

"  Cap'n  Dalton's  farm  in  San  Miguel 
County." 

The  Mexican  finished  the  note  and  handed  it 
to  Manning,  who  puzzled  over  it  for  some  min 
utes;  plainly  he  was  not  having  as  easy  a  time 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          209 

translating  this  one  as  he  had  had  with  the  first. 
"  Read  it,"  he  finally  said,  passing  it  back.     "  I 
guess  I  got  it  pretty  well,  but  I'd  like  to  hear  you 
go  over  it  in  English." 
Villabosa  read: 

I  am  an  unlawful  prisoner.  I  was  ar 
rested  in  San  Antonio,  without  any  charge 
being  made  against  me,  and  put  in  the  police 
station  incommunicado.  I  was  turned  over 
to  Captain  Dalton  of  the  Texas  Rangers, 
and  he  brought  me  here  to  his  farm  in  San 
Miguel  County.  I  am  not  allowed  to  send 
word  to  friends  or  get  a  lawyer.  I  do  not 
know  why  I  am  arrested  and  am  not  guilty 
of  any  crime.  Habeas  icorpus  should  be 
started  at  once.  Get  a  good  lawyer  and  see 
to  it,  please. 

The  messenger  who  used  to  serve  us  being 
dead,  I  advise,  without  waiting,  that  you  get 
another  from  across  the  river  at  once. 

SALVADOR  VILLABOSA. 

"  What's  that  mean  about  a  messenger? " 
Manning  asked  suspiciously. 

"  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  my  getting  free. 
It  is  a  reply  to  a  letter  he  wrote  me,  which  he 
wanted  me  to  answer  at  once.  I  don't  see  how  it 
does  any  harm  to  put  it  in." 

"  Oh,  I  s'pose  not,"  Manning  agreed.  "  Now 
where  do  I  take  these? " 

"To  Pedro  Floras,  Eagle  Pass.  He 
lives "  Followed  careful  directions  as  to 


210          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

finding  the  house.  "  Almost  always  you  will 
find  him  at  home.  He  is  retired  from  active 
business." 

"  All  right."  Manning  took  the  sealed  envel 
ope  with  the  long  letter  and  put  it  carefully 
away  with  the  note  that  called  for  his  payment. 
"  And,  look  here,  Jiombre!  If  this  man  Flores 
don't  live  up  to  what  you  say  and  come  across 
with  that  hundred,  I'll  put  this  whole  business 

up  to  Cap'n  Dalton I  don't  have  to  tell 

him  I've  been  down  there,  you  know ;  all  I'll  need 
to  say  to  him  is  that  you've  turned  me  over  these 
letters  and  that  I  said  I'd  deliver  'em — and  what 
he'll  do  to  you  will  prob'ly  be  a-plenty." 

"  You'll  get  the  hundred,"  Villabosa  said. 

Manning  hitched  his  chair  farther  away  from 
the  prisoner,  and  they  relapsed  into  silence. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

DALTON  drove  in  at  one  o'clock,  and  Manning, 
as  soon  as  the  captain  had  eaten  dinner,  saddled 
his  horse  and  left  the  place.  He  and  Dalton  had 
spoken  briefly,  while  the  Ranger  was  eating,  and 
Villabosa  had  not  been  able  to  hear  what  they 
said.  He  knew,  however,  that  Manning  had 
asked  Dalton  if  it  was  all  right  for  him  to  go  now, 
and  that  Manning  had  expected  him  to  think  that 
he  was  asking  Dalton  for  permission  to  take  a 
brief  vacation. 

Ranger  Hard's  health  improved  as  the  day 
went  on,  and  he  was  able  (although  Villabosa  was 
not  aware  of  the  details,  because  Hard  ate  earlier 
than  the  others)  to  partake  of  some  slight  nour 
ishment.  Two  slices  of  ham,  four  fried  eggs, 
much  bread  and  butter  and  half  a  can  of  peaches, 
to  be  exact.  He  said,  when  he  came  out  of 
the  kitchen,  that  his  "  stummick  "  was  certainly 
better. 

While  Hard  guarded  Villabosa,  a  little  after 
dark,  Dalton  went  out  of  the  house  and  sauntered 
circuitously  to  the  clump  of  live  oaks  that  shad 
owed  the  creek.  There,  beyond  a  little  rise  which 
would  have  made  them  invisible  from  the  house 
even  if  there  had  been  no  trees,  he  came  upon 


212          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Jim  Manning,  reclining  comfortably  on  his  back 
and  smoking. 

"  It  worked,"  Manning  informed  him,  without 
preface,  and  handed  Dalton  the  two  notes. 
"  For  Pedro  Flores,  Eagle  Pass." 

He  recounted  the  forenoon's  happenings. 

"  Did  you  read  this  sealed  letter?  "  the  captain 
asked.  "  Does  it  say  anything  about  being 
sealed? " 

"  No." 

Dalton  slit  the  envelope.  He  switched  on  a 
flashlight  and  ran  his  eye  over  the  contents. 

"  I  don't  read  Spanish  much,  you  know," 
Manning  said,  "  but  it  seemed  to  me,  as  near  as 
I  could  follow  it,  that  he  translated  it  to  me 
pretty  straight,  except  perhaps  that  last  para 
graph.  I  can  tell  you  how  he  read  that:  '  The 
messenger  who  used  to  work  for  us  being  dead, 
I  advise  that  you  don't  wait,  but  get  another 
from  across  the  river  at  once.' ' 

Captain  Dalton's  face,  in  the  reflected  light  of 
his  torch,  expressed  grim  satisfaction. 

"  What  it  says,"  he  remarked,  reading  care 
fully,  "  is  *  The  messenger  who  last  served  us  is 
dead.  Without  waiting  for  me  to  get  another, 
get  the  other  across  the  river  at  once.' ' 

"  Not  much  difference,  is  there?  Although 
that  *  another '  and  '  other '  don't  seem  exactly 
to  make  sense." 

"  '  The  other '  doesn't  refer  to  a  messenger," 
Dalton  declared,  positively. 

"  To  what? " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          213 

The  captain  left  the  question  unanswered.  He 
was  studying  the  sheet  of  paper  before  him. 
Finally,  coming  to  a  decision,  he  took  his  pocket- 
knife  and  cut  it  across  between  the  two  para 
graphs.  Then  he  trimmed  the  lower  part  at 
sides  and  bottom,  so  there  was  no  margin  at  all. 
When  he  had  finished,  there  remained  two  sen 
tences  and  a  signature: 

The  messenger  who  last  served  us  is  dead. 
Without  waiting  for  me  to  get  another,  get 
the  other  across  the  river  at  once. 

SALVADOR  VILLABOSA. 

He  handed  this  to  Manning.  "There!  That's 
a  nice  little  letter  for  Mr.  Flores,"  he  said.  "  It'll 
get  us  the  kind  of  action  we  want,  without  caus 
ing  him  to  get  all  worked  up  about  his  friend 
Villabosa  being  in  the  hands  of  the  law." 

"  You  mean  I'm  to  deliver  this?  " 

"  To  Pedro  Flores,  at  Eagle  Pass.  Not  in  too 
much  of  a  hurry.  Not  until  I  have  a  chance  to 
get  down  there  and  hang  around  about  twenty- 
four  hours  looking  into  things.  I've  sent  for  an 
other  man,  and  Ranger  McQuestion  will  get  here 
to-morrow  rnawnin'.  Then  I'll  leave  and  move 
on  down  to  Eagle  Pass.  I'll  be  there  to-morrow 
evenin'.  To-morrow's  Saturday.  You  blow  in 
about  Monday  mawnin',  and  do  your  little  er 
rand  with  Flores  without  paying  any  attention  to 
me  a-tall.  Stop  at  the  hotel,  and  I'll  find  a  way 
to  get  word  to  you  if  there's  anything  I  want  to 


214          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

tell  you.  After  you've  seen  Flores,  you  can  hunt 
me  up,  when  there's  nobody  around,  and  tell  me 
what  happened.  I'll  be  stopping  at  the  hotel, 
too." 

*  Wait  a  minute.  Do  my  errand,  you  say.  I 
kain't  do  it  the  way  Villabosa  laid  it  out  without 
both  letters." 

"  And  the  trimming  I  gave  that  letter  costs 
you  exactly  one  hundred  iron  American  dollars," 
Dalton  grinned.  "  You  don't  give  him  that  one 
a-tall.  He'd  know  something  was  wrong  with 
Villabosa  in  a  minute,  because  Villabosa's  got 
plenty  of  money  and  wouldn't  have  to  give  a  mes 
senger  an  order  for  pay  at  the  other  end.  No. 
You  just  give  him  this  here  little  short  message, 
and  you  tell  him  Villabosa  wrote  it  small  and 
trimmed  the  paper  so's  you  could  carry  it  in  the 
sweatband  of  your  hat  and  if  anything  happened 
that  you  got  searched,  it'd  probably  get  over 
looked.  I  don't  believe  it  would  do  any  harm  if 
you  sort  of  let  Flores  think  there  are  reasons  why 
getting  arrested  and  searched  wouldn't  come  as  a 
great  surprise  to  you  at  any  minute.  And  you 
tell  him  Villabosa  gave  you  the  letter  in  San 
'Ntonio.  He  didn't  explain  to  you  when  he  hired 
you  why  he  didn't  want  to  use  the  mails  or  the 
telegraph  or  the  telephone,  but  you  got  the  idea 
that  the  matter  was  too  darn'  secret  to  take  any 
chances  with  'em.  And  if  he  asks  you  what  the 
letter  means  about  the  messenger  that  is  dead, 
you  tell  him  you  don't  know." 

"  I  don't,"  Manning  remarked  invitingly. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          215 

"  Then  you'll  be  able  to  tell  him  so  convincing 
that  he  kain't  help  but  believe  it.  All  right. 
You  go  out  and  lose  yourself  somewhere  until 
over  Sunday,  and  slide  into  Eagle  Pass  Monday 
mawnin'  with  your  note  and  get  it  into  Flores' 
hands,  secret,  as  soon  after  as  convenient.  In 
the  meantime,  there's  something  I  want  you  to 
do  to-night.  Call  William  B.  Lamb,  of  San 
'Ntonio,  on  the  telephone.  He's  the  collector  of 
customs  there,  but  you'll  prob'ly  have  to  get  him 
at  his  house.  Tell  him  you  are  talking  for  a  man 
who  went  in  an  automobile  party  to  San  Miguel 
County;  don't  mention  my  name  unless  you  have 
to,  but  ask  him  if  he  understands.  If  he  doesn't, 
you  can  give  my  name.  Then  you  tell  him  I 
want  him  to  get  word  to  a  man  named  Napier  to 
catch  the  first  train  for  Eagle  Pass.  Have  him 
tell  Napier  not  to  look  me  up  or  come  near  me, 
or  even  recognize  me  if  he  sees  me  on  the  street, 
unless  I  speak  to  him  first,  but  to  get  in  touch  with 
the  customs  officers  there  and  have  'em  keep  their 
eyes  extra  wide  open  until  further  notice.  Re 
member  all  that? " 

Manning  repeated  most  of  it. 

"  Correct.  And  if  you  have  luck,  maybe 
Napier  can  catch  to-night's  train  and  be  there 
when  I  get  in.  Have  Lamb  tell  him  to  get  the 
first  one  he  can,  anyway.  I  guess  that's  all.  I'll 
be  moving  back  along  toward  the  house.  Hard 
will  be  wanting  to  eat  another  litle  snack  of  vict 
uals  before  I  go  to  bed,  I  reckon.  He  spent  the 
day  in  fasting  and  prayer." 


216          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

The  telephone  message,  relayed  by  Collector 
Lamb,  reached  Napier  at  the  Bonham  after  a 
most  unsatisfactory  day.  He  had  made  abso 
lutely  no  progress  at  all.  His  visit  to  the  Chi 
nese  grocery  had  developed  no  new  information; 
Kwong  Yet's  travels  had  not  brought  him  in 
touch  with  any  one  of  whom  it  was  safe  to  ask 
questions;  he  and  Kwong  Li  hoped  another 
twenty- four  hours  would  have  better  results; 
meantime  they  accepted  the  situation  Orientally. 

Back  in  his  room  he  had  received  Gordon's  re 
port  as  to  the  espionage  of  Kalat,  and  it  had  un 
settled  him.  Kalat  had  remained  at  home  until 
noon,  when  he  had  taken  a  walk  that  seemed  aim 
less  but  brought  him  finally  to  the  Chinese 
"  great  house,"  where  he  remained  not  more  than 
ten  minutes.  He  went,  then,  to  the  Bonham, 
where  he  inquired  for  Villabosa.  The  hotel  peo 
ple,  not  unused  to  having  their  Mexican  refugees 
absent  themselves  mysteriously  from  the  house 
for  two  or  three  days  without  explanation,  had 
informed  him  merely  that  Villabosa  was  not  in. 
Kalat  had  then  done  much  as  he  did  the  after 
noon  before,  wandering  about  the  plazas  and 
seeming  to  get  entertainment  out  of  the  shows. 
He  had  eaten  a  leisurely  dinner  at  the  St.  Francis 
hotel,  smoked  on  the  loggia  for  an  hour,  and  then 
walked  to  the  Edgemont,  where  he  sent  his  name 
to  Captain  Glenn  and  was  invited  to  come  up. 
Some  time  later  he  came  down  in  the  elevator, 
accompanied  by  Miss  Glenn,  and  they  talked  for 
a  few  minutes  alone  in  the  little  lounge  off  the 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          217 

lobby.  After  this,  Kalat  walked  to  the  nearest 
car  line,  transferred  at  the  most  direct  point,  and 
returned  to  his  boarding  place  at  311  Chiromoya 
Street,  where  Gordon  had  been  relieved  for  the 
night  by  another  agent. 

Kalat  had  been  to  see  Ng  Choy  or  one  of  Ng 
Choy's  men  at  the  "  great  house."  He  had  tried 
to  find  the  missing  Villabosa.  He  had  called  on 
Captain  Glenn  and  talked  confidentially  with 
Miss  Glenn. 

Napier  had  a  troubled  conscience.  He  had 
done  nothing  whatever  that  day  to  have  Captain 
Glenn's  movements  followed.  He  had  not  men 
tioned  to  Lamb  or  to  any  customs  agent  what 
Madame  Frezzi  had  told  him  regarding  the 
army  man.  He  had  put  it  off,  saying  to 
himself  that  he  would  take  care  of  that  detail 
of  the  investigation  in  person,  but  he  had 
not  begun  to  do  so.  He  would  not  believe  that 
Ruth  Glenn  was  willingly  involved  with  crimi 
nals,  yet  he  hadn't  done  a  thing  to  prove  she 
wasn't,  because — he  grimaced  as  he  admitted  it 
to  himself — it  might  turn  out  she  was.  He  had 
neglected  an  obvious  duty. 

It  was  while  he  was  revolving  this  disquieting 
thought  that  Lamb  called  him  and  gave  him  Dai- 
ton's  message.  Scarcely  more  than  a  half  hour 
remained  before  train  time. 

Notifying  the  hotel  office  that  he  would  be  out 
of  town  for  a  day  or  two  but  wished  to  keep  his 
room,  and  ordering  an  automobile  to  be  ready  to 
take  him  to  the  station,  he  packed  for  the  trip. 


218          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

This  wasn't  as  simple  a  matter  as  it  would  have 
been  for  the  ordinary  tourist ;  not  only  did  clothes 
and  articles  for  use  on  a  brief  excursion  have  to 
be  selected  and  thrown  into  one  bag,  but  various 
belongings  that  were  in  his  trunk,  which  it  would 
not  do  to  leave,  had  to  be  taken  along.  He 
worked  systematically  and  rapidly. 

He  had  finished,  locked  his  trunk  and  suitcase, 
and  stood  at  the  door,  bag  in  hand,  taking  one 
final  look  about  to  be  sure  he  had  forgotten  noth 
ing,  when  the  telephone  bell  tinkled. 

"  Mr.  Napier?  "  came  in  Ruth  Glenn's  voice. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Glenn." 

"  I  seem  to  be  fated  always  to  call  you  late  at 
night.  But  you  said  night  or  day.  Can  you 

come  to  see  me,  please?  I "  Her  voice 

shook  a  trifle.  "  It  has  happened,  I  think.  Or 
is  going  to." 

He  had  promised  when  "  it "  happened,  to 
"  come  a-running,"  and  she  was  so  sure  he  would 
keep  his  word  that  she  was  going  on  without 
waiting  for  his  answer.  "  I  am  not  in  my  room," 
she  said,  "  but  downstairs,  in  the  booth.  There 
is  no  place  here  where  we  could  be  sure  not  to  be 
disturbed.  Can  you  come  in  an  automobile? 
We  can  ride  a  little  and  talk.  I  will  be  waiting 
in  that  little  lounge  room." 

"  I'm  so  sorry,  but  I  can't,"  Napier  cried,  fum 
ing  inwardly  that  he  had  to  talk  rapidly  and 
sharply  if  he  would  not  miss  the  train.  "  I  am 
going  out  of  town  for  a  few  days  and  my  train 
leaves  in  fifteen  minutes.  The  car  to  take  me  to 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          219 

the  station  is  waiting  right  now.  I'm  so  sorry, 
Miss  Glenn,  but  just  as  soon  as  I  get  back " 

"  Can't  you  come  to-night?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  it  is  absolutely  impossible." 

"  If  you  can't,  you  can't,"  she  said,  and  there 
was  a  hopeless  note  in  her  voice — or  was  it  a 

frightened  one?  "Well I  mustn't  make 

you  miss  your  train." 

"  The  very  minute  I  get  back "  he  began, 

but  she  said: 

"  That  may  be — too  late.  I  hope  it  won't. 
Good-by." 

He  caught  the  train  with  seconds  to  spare. 
Through  half  the  night,  while  he  tossed  and 
turned  and  tried  to  summon  sleep,  the  thought 
persisted  that  Kalat  had  talked  to  her,  alone,  not 
an  hour  before  she  telephoned.  The  car  wheels 
spurning  the  joints  of  the  rails  clicked  an  inter 
minable  message,  "  Kalat  was  there!  Kalat  was 
there!" 

What  had  Kalat  told  her  that  made  her  believe 
the  thing  she  feared  had  happened  or  was  about 
to  happen?  And  why — unless  the  reason  she 
had  given  him  was  true — was  she  appealing  to 
Napier? 

There  was  another  thought,  an  ugly  one. 
Had  Kalat,  friend  and  master  of  Madame 
Frezzi,  visitor  to  Ng  Choy  and  searcher  for 
Villabosa,  holder  of  confidential  conversations 
with  Ruth  Glenn  and  her  father, — had  Kalat  be 
come  aware  of  the  official  personality  of  Julian 
Napier  and  set  a  trap  for  him  with  the  oldest  bait 


220          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

in  the  world?     Had  he  asked  her  to  invite  him  to 
a  midnight  ride?     Or  perhaps  ordered  it? 

He  put  this  immediately  out  of  his  head  as 
impossible  and  refused  to  dwell  upon  it — many 
times.  But  always,  as  drowsiness  crept  over  him 
and  his  brain  took  unguided  charge  of  its  own 
operations,  the  question  came  leaping  back,  and 
with  it  stark  wakefulness. 


CHAPTER  XX 

ACROSS  the  wide,  slow-sweeping  Rio  Grande 
at  Eagle  Pass  stretches  an  international  bridge, 
high  above  the  coffee-colored  tide,  at  its  further 
end  a  rough-paved  street  that  leads  up  a  hill  be 
tween  adobe  houses,  on  past  the  cuartel  to  a  plaza 
with  a  squat-towered  church.  The  City  of  Por- 
firio  Diaz  it  used  to  be  called,  new-named  Pieclras 
Negras  since  the  brief  day  in  power  of  Don  Pan- 
chito  Madero. 

There  was  a  time,  not  so  many  years  ago,  when 
crossing  this  bridge  did  not  mean  much  of  a  for 
mality  unless  one  had  a  certain  reputation  or 
aroused  suspicion.  That  was  when  Don  Porfirio 
administered  the  high,  the  low  and  the  middle 
justice  in  Old  Mexico,  and  Americans  were  not 
only  welcome  across  the  border,  but  safe. 

Sundays  in  the  hot  springtime,  in  those  days, 
saw  excursion  trains  running  in  from  as  far  away 
as  San  Antonio,  hundreds  of  whose  passengers 
alighted  at  Eagle  Pass  and  walked  across  this 
bridge,  to  avoid  the  tedious  train  inspection  of  the 
Mexican  officials  on  the  railroad  viaduct.  When 
they  had  come  into  Mexico,  with  no  more  trouble 
or  inconvenience  than  one  suffers  in  entering 
Canada  at  Niagara  Falls,  they  wandered  through 
narrow-sidewalked  streets,  swarmed  over  the 


222          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

plaza  with  its  feverish  gambling  tables  in  the 
shadow  of  the  church,  followed  dark-skinned  lit 
tle  men  with  roosters  under  their  arms  to  the 
cockpits,  and  finally,  as  the  sun  began  to  lower, 
witnessed  the  killing  of  four  bulls  and  a  dozen 
rack-o'-bones  horses  (and  sometimes  of  a  capa- 
dor  who  stubbed  his  toe  or  his  judgment)  in  the 
Plaza  de  Toros  where  a  file  of  shabby  convict 
soldiers  sat  with  their  rifles  between  their  knees 
behind  the  frock-coated,  silk-hatted  jefe  politico 
in  his  seat  of  honor  on  the  shady  side.  It  was 
safe  to  let  crowds  gather  in  Northern  Mexico  in 
those  days,  and  the  thirty  or  forty  shuffling, 
hang-dog  soldiers  were  not  present  at  the  bull 
fight  in  fear  of  any  revolutionary  uprising,  but 
only  to  guard  against  the  impulse  that  sometimes 
seizes  a  Latin  populace  to  tear  the  amphitheatre 
to  pieces  if  the  bulls  or  the  human  performers  do 
not  give  satisfaction. 

The  little  Mexican  city  is  still  there  at  the  end 
of  the  bridge,  but  those  whose  business  calls  them 
in  one  direction  or  the  other  run  a  stricter  gaunt 
let.  There  are  passports  to  be  inspected,  or 
"  border  permits,"  which  are  issued  only  to  per 
sons  living  within  ten  miles  of  the  border  and 
good  only  for  a  belt  of  ten  miles  on  the  other  side. 
One  does  not,  unchallenged,  pass  the  guard 
houses  on  the  bridge  with  a  nod ;  unless  he  has  the 
proper  documents  and  carries  nothing  upon  him 
that  the  regulations  of  one  country  or  the  other 
forbid,  he  does  not  pass  at  all. 

The  long  bridge  looked  deserted  as  a  horseman 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          223 

clattered  out  upon  it  on  Monday  afternoon. 
There  were  men,  to  be  sure,  in  the  American 
guardhouse,  a  hundred  yards  this  side  of  the 
white  monument  that  marks  the  place  where  one 
steps  from  the  States  into  Mexico,  and  men  in 
the  Mexican  guardhouse  beyond  the  boundary, 
and,  of  course,  they  were  looking  at  him  through 
the  windows  of  their  little  stations,  but  for  the 
moment  they  were  invisible. 

The  rider  was  a  man  of  thirty  or  thereabouts, 
dressed  rather  elaborately  in  the  fashion  that 
often  represents  a  cowboy's  ideal  of  sartorial  ele 
gance,  although  his  outfit  was  not  at  all  new. 
His  peaked  hat  was  a  little  higher  and  a  little 
broader  brimmed  than  common,  and  obviously 
expensive.  His  corduroy  trousers  were  tucked 
into  high  boots  that  cost  as  much  or  more  than  the 
hat;  custom-made  boots  of  finest  leather,  with 
heels  so  high  that  walking  meant  discomfort,  and 
with  four-inch  fancy  straps  dangling  at  each  side 
of  their  tops.  His  shirt,  open  at  the  neck  with 
a  loose-knotted  tie,  was  of  fancy  material. 

He  dismounted  in  front  of  the  American 
guardhouse,  hitched  his  horse  to  the  rail,  and 
nodded  to  the  inspector  whose  face  appeared  at 
the  window.  "  Good  evenin',  Mr.  Burke,"  he 
said  easily.  He  caught  sight  of  Julian  Napier, 
sitting  in  a  corner  of  the  little  building  behind  the 
inspector,  saw  that  he  was  a  stranger,  and  nodded 
again  casually  to  include  him  in  the  greeting. 

His  right  hand  was  already  at  his  hip,  lifting 
a  six-shooter  from  a  holster  that  hung  inside  his 


224          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

trousers.  He  handed  it,  butt  first,  to  the  in 
spector.  He  collected  a  half-dozen  cartridges 
from  a  pocket,  and  turned  them  over.  "  That's 
all,"  he  said.  The  inspector  came  out  of  the 
house  and  ran  a  practiced  hand  over  his  clothes. 
Arms  and  ammunition,  under  the  American  law, 
may  not  be  carried  into  Mexico.  Whether  the 
rider  had  anything  in  his  pockets  that  the  Mexi 
cans  would  not  want  him  to  bring  into  their 
country  was  a  matter  of  concern  only  to  the  in 
spectors  at  the  other  end  of  the  bridge,  beyond 
the  white  stone  monument. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Sanders,"  Inspector  Burke 
said.  The  man  turned  and  limped  to  his  horse. 
It  was  not  a  very  noticeable  limp,  merely  a  slight 
stiffness  of  the  right  ankle,  apparently.  He 
threw  his  leg  over  his  horse,  and  steadied  the 
animal  as  it  would  have  set  off. 

"  Better  come  over  with  me  and  have  a  liT 
snifter,"  he  grinned.  "  This  side  of  the  river 
gets  awful  dry." 

"  It  sure  does,"  Inspector  Burke  replied,  not 
taking  the  invitation  for  more  than  the  pleas 
antry  it  was  intended  to  be.  "  Take  two — one 
for  me." 

"  By  golly,  that's  a  great  idea!  "  Sanders  cried. 
"  Dogged  if  I  don't."  He  let  his  horse  go,  and 
they  saw  him  alight  again  at  the  Mexican  guard 
house  and  submit  to  search.  After  a  bit,  he  went 
his  way. 

He  had  disappeared  up  the  hill  in  the  direction 
of  the  plaza  when  Captain  Dalton,  afoot,  came 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          225 

out  on  the  bridge  and  entered  the  American 
guardhouse.  No  one  except  the  officers  was  in 
within  hearing;  they  could  talk  freely. 

"  What  has  he  been  doing,  all  this  time? " 
Napier  asked  eagerly,  the  moment  the  Captain 
arrived. 

"  Nothing.  Just  loafing  around.  Looks  like 
he  had  been  waiting  for  some  special  time  to  go 
across.  Manning  gave  Villabosa's  note  to  old 
man  Flores  at  half -past  eight,  and  Flores  sent 
for  this  Sanders  pronto.  Sanders  didn't  stay  at 
his  house  more'n  ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  Since 
then  he's  been  killing  time,  as  near  as  I  can  make 
out.  Is  he  in  the  habit  of  crossing  pretty  often?  " 
he  asked  the  inspector. 

"  Pretty  nearly  every  day,"  Burke  replied. 
"  He  has  a  border  permit." 

"Does  he  usually  go  about  this  time  of 
day?" 

The  inspector  thought.  "  I  don't  remember 
his  ever  going  in  the  morning,"  he  said.  "  Yes, 
I  guess  it's  always  at  just  about  this  time.  He 
says  he  goes  over  on  business,  and  laughs. 
Doesn't  make  any  bones  of  the  fact  that  mostly 
he  slips  over  to  get  a  couple  of  drinks.  If  he 
made  any  practice  of  coming  back  drunk  he'd 
lose  his  permit,  but  he  doesn't.  He  always  has 
a  fine  ripe  smell  of  ex- American  whiskey  on  him, 
but  I've  never  seen  him  even  pleasantly  jingled." 

"  Do  you  know  where  he  goes,  over  there?  " 
'  We  make  it  our  business  to  find  that  out,  re 
garding  people  who  cross  a  good  deal,"  Burke 


226          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

smiled.  "  He  mostly  goes  to  just  one  place. 
It's  a  barroom.  Run  by  a  Chink  named  Tom 
Sing." 

"  You  have  searched  him?  " 

"  Of  course." 

"  Ever  investigate  those  high  heels  on  his 
shoes?" 

"  No.  We've  never  had  grounds  to  especially 
suspect  him,  you  know." 

"  We  won't  overlook  the  heels  this  time,"  Na 
pier  said.  '  What  have  you  found  out  about 
him,  captain?  " 

"  Not  much,  because  folks  here  in  Eagle  Pass 
know  mighty  little  about  him.  He's  been  here 
about  two  months,  without  any  visible  means  of 
support,  but  with  enough  money  in  his  clothes  so 
he  hasn't  had  to  hang  up  any  debts.  Says  he 
used  to  have  some  cattle  in  West  Texas,  and  sold 
'em.  Talks  about  maybe  going  into  business 
here,  if  he  finds  something  he  likes,  but  hasn't 
found  it  yet.  Principal  friend,  old  Pedro  Flores, 
— and  that's  against  him,  to  start  with;  he  isn't 
the  kind  of  a  feller,  by  his  looks,  that  chums  with 
any  Mexican  just  to  be  chummy.  There  is  talk 
that  he  used  to  be  more  or  less  bad,  out  there  in 
West  Texas,  but,  of  course,  I  haven't  had  time 
to  look  that  up.  He  explained  that  little  limp  of 
his,  once,  by  saying  he  and  another  feller  were 
having  a  little  argument  and  the  feller  got  him  in 
the  ankle.  Didn't  go  into  any  details,  but  sort 
of  left  the  impression  that  his  bullet  landed 
higher  than  the  foot." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          227 

"  He  wears  a  gun  regular,"  Burke  said.  "  Al 
ways  checks  it  here." 

"  He  hasn't  any  legal  right  to — not  in  this 
county,  anyway.  I  inquired  about  that.  It's 
handy  to  know ;  gives  a  reason  for  arresting  him, 
if  you  want  him  and  there  isn't  any  better  one. 
Let's  look  at  his  gun." 

He  closely  examined  the  weapon  that  Burke 
passed  him. 

"  Don't  it  beat  all,"  he  commented,  "  how  van 
ity  makes  a  man  do  that,  nine  times  out  of  ten?  " 
and  showed  them  two  parallel  file  marks  on  the 
side  of  the  barrel.  "  Of  course  he  may  have 
bought  this  gun  from  the  man  that  put  those 
notches  in,  but  seeing  as  he  seems  to  have  a  repu 
tation  for  being  bad,  the  chances  are  at  least 
equal  that  he  earned  'em  himself." 

He  handed  the  pistol  back  to  Burke.  "  Better 
not  let  him  get  within  reach  of  it  until  after 
you've  searched  him,"  he  advised.  "And  don't 
overlook  his  hawse." 

Napier  nodded.  "  It  certainly  looks  as  though 
Flores  might  be  sending  him  after  the  diamond, 
doesn't  it? " 

"  Either  sending  him  after  it,  or  sending  orders 
by  him  to  somebody  else  to  bring  it  in,"  the  cap 
tain  agreed.  "  And  if  the  orders  were  to  go  to 
somebody  else,  why  did  Floras  have  to  send  a 
messenger?  He  could  have  telephoned." 

"  Where  is  Flores?     Is  he  being  watched?  " 

"  I  didn't  have  a  chance  to  tell  you,  when  we 
had  those  few  words  this  forenoon,  that  I  ran  into 


228          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Cap'n  Williams  of  the  Service.  He  had  written 
me  a  letter,  by  the  way,  which,  of  course,  I  hadn't 
got  yet,  containing  a  lot  of  nice,  valuable  infor 
mation  about  our  friend  Villabosa.  It  may  come 
in  handy.  Well,  I  asked  the  cap'n  to  help  me 
out,  and  he's  over  in  Flores'  house  at  this  minute, 
questioning  him  about  a  cattle  mix-up  between 
some  Mexicans  across  the  river  and  some  over 
here  on  this  side  that  Flores  never  heard  of,  be 
cause  the  whole  thing  is  imaginary.  The  cap'n 
will  stay  there,  though,  until  we  get  somewhere 
or  don't.  If  we  should  happen  to  get  the  goods 
on  Mr.  Sanders,  there  won't  be  any  clanger  of 
Flores  making  a  get-away  or  doing  any  telephon 
ing.  And  Manning  is  within  reach,  if  he  needs 
him." 

"  It  would  be  a  nervy  proceeding  to  try  to 
bring  it  in  past  us  in  broad  daylight,"  Napier 
said. 

"  This  Ed  Sanders  looks  like  a  nervy  person. 
I'm  as  likely  to  be  wrong  as  right,  and  frequently 
more  so,  but  I  won't  believe  he  hasn't  got  that 
Turkish  rock  somewhere  on  him  until  you've  got 
through  searching  him." 

"  How  much  is  it  worth?  "  Inspector  Burke 
asked  Napier. 

"  Two  hundred  thousand  dollars.      Perhaps 


more." 


The  inspector  whistled.  "  Forty  thousand 
dollars  duty!  No  wonder  the  owner  can  afford 
to  hire  able  men  to  slip  it  across  for  him.  You 
said  there  were  two,  didn't  you?  " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          229 

"  Yes,  but  the  other,  unless  I  am  mistaken,  is 
already  in.  That's  forty  thousand  more  we 
didn't  get.  And  it  looks  as  though  it  came 
through  here." 

Burke  did  not  take  offense.  He  was  not  on 
duty  the  entire  twenty-four  hours,  so  the  respon 
sibility  for  the  post  was  divided,  and  a  competent 
customs  officer  does  not  fool  himself  into  thinking 
he  can  never  be  outwitted.  "  If  Sanders  is  the 
man,  it  could  have  been  in  one  of  those  heels,  at 
that,"  he  admitted,  thoughtfully. 

"  It  didn't  take  him  long  to  get  his  two  drinks 
this  afternoon,"  Captain  Dalton  remarked. 
"  Here  he  comes  on  to  the  bridge.  While  you 
pull  your  search,  I'll  go  out  and  lean  up  against 
the  rail,  like  I  was  just  a  caller  who  didn't  want 
to  get  under  foot." 

Sanders  came  to  the  Mexican  guardhouse  and 
alighted.  They  saw  two  officers  come  out  and 
examine  his  horse,  and  Sanders  emptied  all  his 
pockets  to  show  them  he  was  not  bringing  out  of 
the  country  any  gold  or  an  illegal  amount  of  sil 
ver.  He  remounted  presently,  and  came  canter 
ing  across  the  boundary. 

"  I  took  your  drink,  Mr.  Burke,  and  it  tasted 
just  as  good  as  mine  did,"  he  laughed,  as  he  slid 
off  his  horse  and  limped  toward  the  guardhouse. 
"  Nothing  dutiable,"  he  added  perfunctorily. 
"  Let  me  come  in  and  sit  down  a  minute,  will 
you?  I've  got  something  in  my  boot  that's  hurt 
ing  like  blazes." 

He  came  through  the  door,  sat  in  the  chair  that 


230          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Dalton  had  just  vacated,  hauled  off  his  right 
boot,  turned  it  upside  down,  and  let  a  forty-five 
cartridge  fall  to  the  floor. 

"  That's  a  nice  little  thing  to  have  squeezed  up 
against  the  side  of  your  foot !  "  he  remarked.  "  I 
was  cleaning  my  pistol  this  noon  and  dropped 
that  cartridge,  and  it  fell  into  the  top  of  my  boot. 
'  Stay  there! '  says  I.  '  You'll  be  safe,'  and  never 
looked  for  it  to  give  me  any  trouble.  But  the 
darned  thing  slipped  down.  Man,  it  felt  as  big 
as  a  house." 

"  Let's  have  a  look  at  that  boot,  while  you've 
got  it  off,"  Burke  said. 

He  examined  it  carefully,  saw  that  the  heel 
was  fastened  on  in  the  usual  manner,  and  ran  his 
arm  down  inside  the  boot  to  satisfy  himself  there 
was  no  entrance  to  it  from  the  interior.  Sanders 
watched  his  movements  with  a  grin.  '  Want  the 
other  one?  "  he  asked,  and  stuck  out  his  left  foot. 
"  Pull  it  off,  will  you,  please,  suh?  " 

Burke  accommodated  and  gave  the  second 
boot  an  examination  as  thorough  as  the  first,  dur 
ing  which  Sanders  put  on  the  other.  The  in 
spector  handed  it  back,  after  a  moment  or  two, 
and  Sanders  put  it  on  also.  "All  right?"  he 
asked  good-naturedly. 

"All  right  so  far  as  the  boots  go,"  the  in 
spector  told  him.  "  Stand  up,  please.  We'll  look 
you  over  a  little."  He  smiled.  "  Have  to  do 
this  to  our  regular  customers  about  once  in  so 
often,  you  know." 

Sanders  not  only  made  no  objection  to  the 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          231 

search,  but  cheerfully  assisted  in  it.  He  chatted 
with  Burke  and  Napier,  who  looked  sharply  on, 
and  showed  no  impatience  at  the  inspector's  thor 
oughness.  When  they  had  satisfied  themselves 
that  nothing  so  small  as  a  one-carat  diamond, 
much  less  one  almost  as  large  as  a  pigeon's  egg, 
could  possibly  be  concealed  on  his  person,  they 
went  outside  and  paid  careful  attention  to  the 
trappings  of  his  horse.  He  watched  them  toler 
antly  from  the  doorway. 

Burke  succeeded  in  showing  no  disappointment 
as,  after  a  glance  at  Napier  which  the  special 
agent  answered  with  a  nod,  he  told  Sanders  the 
inquisition  was  over.  "  That's  all,"  he  smiled. 
"  Sorry  to  have  to  make  you  so  much  trouble, 
after  that  drink  you  bought  me — and  drank." 

"  No  trouble  at  all,"  Sanders  told  him  cor 
dially.  "  It's  your  job.  Now  if  you  will  let  me 
have  my  pistol,  please,  suh!  " 

Burke  handed  it  over,  together  with  the  extra 
cartridges,  and  he  stowed  it  in  the  holster  inside 
his  waistband.  He  unhitched  his  horse  and  pre 
pared  to  mount,  Burke  and  Napier  both  stand 
ing  outside  the  doorway  of  the  guardhouse. 

"  Well,  so  long,  gentlemen,"  he  called,  and  put 
his  left  toe  to  the  stirrup.  Something  in  the  way 
his  other  foot  twisted  on  the  ground  gave  Napier 
a  sudden  flash  of  inspiration. 

"  Wait !  "  he  called.  "  Stop ! "  And,  as  San 
ders'  leg  had  already  lifted  lightly  over  the  horse 
and  he  was  settling  into  the  saddle,  "  Get  down 
again,  please.  We  overlooked  that  foot." 


232          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

One  swift  look  Sanders  cast  toward  Napier 
and  Burke;  they  had  no  weapons  in  their  hands 
and  were  not  reaching  for  any.  His  glance  flew 
in  the  direction  of  Eagle  Pass ;  the  road  was  clear. 
His  face  set  into  hard,  determined  lines;  his 
eyes  narrowed;  his  right  hand  moved  stealthily 
toward  the  pistol  on  his  hip. 

"  Leave  that  gun  alone !  You're  under  ar 
rest!"  snapped  Captain  Dalton,  from  the  pre 
viously  unobserved  side  lines. 

Sanders  looked  at  Dalton  and  saw  that  he  had 
not  moved  to  draw  a  pistol.  He  could  overawe 
three  with  a  waving  gun  as  well  as  two.  His 
hand  snapped  to  his  revolver  and  his  fingers 
closed  on  the  butt;  as  it  came  from  its  holster 
Dalton  drew  and  fired  with  what  seemed  to  be 
one  uninterrupted  motion,  and  shot  him  through 
the  right  shoulder.  Sanders  reeled  in  the  saddle, 
his  horse  spun,  pitched  and  threw  him,  and  his 
pistol  went  flying  and  rebounded  from  the  plank 
roadway. 

Dazed  anger  substituted  in  his  brain  for  or 
dinary  discretion.  He  staggered  to  his  knees, 
to  his  feet,  and  stumbled  toward  the  pistol,  his 
right  arm  hanging  helpless,  his  left  hand  ex 
tended. 

"Leave  it  alone!"  warned  Dalton.  "Don't 
pick  up  that  gun! "  He  paid  no  heed.  "  You 
damn  fool!"  the  Ranger  cried,  almost  dispas 
sionately,  and  fired  again.  The  bullet  shat 
tered  Sanders'  left  forearm.  "  Now  if  you've 
got  any  more  ways  of  picking  it  up,  try  'em, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          233 

and  I'll  just  natchully  have  to  let  you  have  it 
right" 

"  What  quarrel  is  this  of  yours?  "  Sanders  de 
manded  weakly.  He  swayed,  fell  over,  came  to 
a  sitting  position  and  contemplated  his  bleeding 
arm.  Napier  ran  and  kicked  his  gun  away  from 
him,  then  took  possession  of  it. 

"  Ranger  Service,"  the  captain  explained 
tersely.  "  You  was  arrested  for  totin'  a  gun, 
and  you  resisted.  If  you  want  to  tell  anybody  it 
was  for  anything  else,  that's  your  business.  Un 
derstand?  " 

The  man  was  suffering  and  faint.  "  You  shore 
handle  a  pistol  some  quick,"  he  mumbled,  trying 
to  smile,  and  fell  back  on  the  boards.  "  You'd 
better  get  me  to  a  doctor,  hadn't  you?  I'm  all 
shot  to  pieces." 

Dalton  was  already  busy  with  crude  first  aid. 
"  Don't  worry,  liombre"  he  said,  not  at  all 
angrily,  almost  soothingly.  "  You  ain't  bad 
hurt.  It's  lucky  for  you  I  most  always  hit 
where  I'm  looking,  and  know  I  can.  If  I  didn't, 
I  prob'ly  wouldn't  have  taken  no  chances,  you 
with  your  hand  on  a  gun  thataway.  We'll  have 
you  fixed  up  all  right." 

He  turned  to  Napier  and  Burke,  as  men  came 
running  along  the  bridge  from  the  town.  "  I 
went  to  take  a  gun  off  him,  and  he  started  some 
thing,"  he  said.  "That's  all  we'll  tell  'em. 
Nothing  about  your  being  mixed  into  it  a- tall. 
When  we  get  him  to  a  doctor — you  come  with 
me,  Napier — we'll  get  this  foot  off  " — he  tapped 


234          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Sanders'  ankle  with  his  knuckles — "  and  have  a 
look.  Wasn't  I  a  darn'  fool  not  to  think  of  it? 
He  doesn't  limp  hardly  any."  He  looked  down 
at  the  white-faced  Sanders,  frank  admiration  in 
his  eyes.  "And  wasn't  it  a  foxy  stunt  for  him  to 
get  that  right  boot  off  and  on  again  himself,  first 
thing,  so  you  natchully  wouldn't  investigate  that 
corner  of  him  a-tall." 

In  a  room  next  to  the  one  where  the  wounded 
man  lay,  a  half  hour  later,  Dalton  and  Napier 
and  one  of  the  two  doctors  examined  an  artificial 
lower  leg.  Out  of  its  cavity,  which  had  been 
cleverly  enlarged,  Napier  drew  a  package  with  a 
bright  orange  label,  marked  in  Chinese.  "  Please 
note,  in  order  that  you  can  testify  to  it  when 
called  upon,  doctor,"  he  said,  "  that  this  is  found 
in  the  leg  that  you  yourself  detached  from  the 
prisoner." 

"  Opium,  eh? "  the  physician  commented. 

"  Wait  a  minute.  If  we  have  guessed 

right "  Napier  pried  off  the  top  of  the  box 

and  disclosed  the  usual  brown,  gummy  mass  of 
the  forbidden  drug.  "  Is  there  something  we  can 
empty  this  into?  "  The  doctor  brought  a  flat 
metal  basin,  and  the  others  stood  close  as  Napier 
carefully  dumped  the  contents  of  the  tin  into 
it. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  can,  quite  hidden  in  the 
opium,  was  a  symmetrically  shaped  object 
wrapped  in  oiled  silk  and  sealed.  Napier  ripped 
its  covering  with  the  point  of  his  pocketknife,  and 
held  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  its  facets  flashing 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          235 

in  the  afternoon  sunlight,  a  magnificent  un 
mounted  diamond.  As  his  hand  moved  with  his 
breathing — and  perhaps  with  excitement — the 
jewel  blazed  and  glittered  with  a  cold,  blue- 
white  iridescence.  Even  the  undemonstrative 
Captain  Dalton  caught  his  breath. 

"  This  is  seized  by  the  Government,  of  course/' 
Napier  told  the  physician,  "  but  for  the  pres 
ent  there  must  be  no  publicity.  I  ask  you  to 
keep  it  as  secret  as  you  would  a  professional 
matter." 

The  doctor  nodded  agreement.  "  How  much 
is  it  worth?  "  he  asked,  his  voice  reverent. 

"  That  is  a  matter  for  the  appraiser.  I  am  not 
sure  which  one  this  is,  but  I  think,  from  its  color, 
that  it  is  the  one  called  the  Gorgeous  Lily." 

"Are  there  two? " 

"  There  were,  where  this  came  from,"  Napier 
evaded,  just  as  he  had  avoided  naming  the  value. 
"  That  is  all,  I  think,  doctor,  if  you  want  to  get 
back  to  your  patient." 

He  rewrapped  the  stone,  and  the  doctor  went 
reluctantly  away. 

*'  This  man  has  been  bringing  in  a  can  every 
day,"  Napier  told  Dalton  confidently.  "  When 
the  supply  got  large  enough  to  make  it  worth 
while,  a  messenger  came  down  from  San  Antonio 
and  got  it.  There  hasn't  been  any  messenger  for 
at  least  eight  or  ten  days  and  we  don't  know  how 
much  longer;  somewhere  hereabouts  there  are  a 
number  of  tins  of  opium.  For  a  best  guess, 
somewhere  in  or  near  Pedro  Flores'  house." 


236          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Dalton  nodded  agreement  with  this.  "  Some 
body  has  to  stay  with  this  Sanders  after  the 
doctors  get  through  with  him,"  he  said,  with  de 
cision,  "  to  keep  him  under  arrest  and,  more  im 
portant  at  this  stage  of  the  game,  to  see  that  he 
doesn't  have  any  visitors.  You  will  attend  to 
that,  I  suppose." 

"As  soon  as  I  can  get  a  customs  officer  here. 
Can  you  stay  around  until  he  comes?  I  want  to 
gather  two  or  three  of  the  men  in  a  hurry  and 
get  over  to  Flores'  place." 

"  You  will  find  Cap'n  Williams  still  visiting 
with  him,  and  the  cap'n  will  keep  him  from 
getting  in  the  way  while  you  search — or  out  of 
the  way.  If  you  need  any  extra  help  you'll 
prob'ly  find  Jim  Manning  waiting  handy  to  the 
place  somewhere;  I  told  him  to  stick  around  in 
case  Williams  needed  him.  You  don't  know 
Manning,  but  he's  a  big,  red-headed  young  feller. 
He  will  prob'ly  show  up  in  sight  when  he  sees 
you  men  going  into  the  house." 

Napier,  who  had  put  the  diamond  in  the  inner 
most  pocket  of  his  vest  and  pinned  the  pocket  fast 
above  it,  took  up  the  tin  and  scrutinized  it.  He 
got  out  his  knife  again  and  picked  at  the  label. 
The  paper,  stuck  only  at  the  top  and  bottom, 
came  away  readily  and  disclosed  another  label 
of  similar  appearance  beneath  it.  To  the  eye 
which  sees  all  Chinese  ideographs  as  a  scrawl  of 
hopeless  hieroglyphics,  the  two  would  have  looked 
to  be  the  same,  but  the  ideographs  were  not 
identical  at  all. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          237 

"  Fastened  loosely,"  he  commented  to  Dalton, 
"  so  the  outer  label  could  be  removed  and  the  tin 
would  not  look  different  from  any  of  the  others, 
once  it  had  been  delivered.  They  could  be  de 
pended  upon  there  not  to  mix  it  with  common 
opium  cans.  The  messenger,  unless  he  was  Chi 
nese,  would  never  realize  that  one  of  the  tins  in 
his  lot  was  different  from  the  others,  or,  if  he  did 
notice  that  the  marks  were  not  the  same,  would 
think  it  merely  meant  a  different  shipper." 

He  got  out  the  fragment  of  label  that  Angel 
Puenta's  dying  clutch  had  retained,  and  com 
pared  them.  So  far  as  matching  was  pos 
sible,  they  were  identical.  He  nodded  slowly. 
"  When  Villabosa  wrote  '  the  other  one,'  he  meant 
exactly  what  you  thought  he  meant,"  he  said. 
"  Puenta  carried  the  first  stone  to  San  Antonio 
on  his  last  trip." 

He  studied  the  ideographs  on  the  false  label. 

"  Can  you  read  that  stuff? "  Dalton  asked. 

"  I  think  so.  I'll  have  to  check  it  up  with  some 
plates  I've  got  over  in  the  hotel,  but  unless  I  am 

mistaken '      He    let  a    finger    drop    from 

character  to  character  in  the  left-hand  column: 
"  This  reads:  '  For  the  Honorable  Wu  Tsai.' ' 
His  finger  went  to  the  top  ideograph  on  the  right. 
"And    this    says:    'Society    of    the    Fragrant 
Lily.' ' 

"  What  does  that  mean?  " 

"  It  is  the  address.  I  know  the  headquarters 
of  the  Society  of  the  Fragrant  Lily,  in  San  An 
tonio,  and  I  thought  I  knew  the  names  of  all  the 


238          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

leading  Chinese  in  it,  but "     His  forehead 

wrinkled  with  undisguised  disappointment.  "  I 
don't  know  who  Wu  Tsai  is,  or  where  he  hangs 
out.  I  never  heard  of  him.  He  is  a  brand-new 
character." 


CHAPTER  XXI 

VILLABOSA,  sitting  in  the  front  room  of  Dai- 
ton's  farmhouse,  maintained  an  outward  appear 
ance  of  sneering  calm,  but  his  eyes  glowed  with 
the  malignant  hatred  of  a  cornered  rattlesnake. 
Napier,  who  had  been  doing  the  talking,  sat  back 
with  a  look  at  Dalton  that  inquired  whether  he 
had  overlooked  anything,  and  the  Ranger  nodded 
approval. 

"  So  there  you  are,"  Napier  summed  it  up, 
"  We  have  Flores.  We  have  his  man  Sanders. 
We  have  sixteen  five-tael  cans  of  opium  from 
Flores'  house.  We  have  the  diamond.  .  .  . 
And  we  have  your  letter  to  Flores,  telling  him  to 
have  it  brought  over  without  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  a  messenger,  because  Angel  Puenta  is  dead." 

Villabosa  still  sat  silent. 

"  In  other  words,  the  jig  is  up,"  Dalton  added. 

"  If  it  was,  you  wouldn't  be  talking  to  me  at 
all,"  the  Mexican  retorted,  with  cunning  ap 
praisal  of  the  situation.  "  You  would  have  me 
on  my  way  back  to  San  Antonio,  to  go  before  a 
Federal  court.  Suppose  you  say  the  rest  of  it." 

"  Where  is  the  other  diamond? "  Napier  de 
manded.  "  We  can  find  it,  of  course,  but  you 
can  make  it  easier  for  us.  If  you  do,  perhaps 


240          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

you  won't  hang  or  go  to  prison  for  life  as  an 
accessory  to  Puenta's  murder." 

"  I  won't  do  that,  anyway.  I  had  nothing  to 
do  with  it." 

"  You  didn't  see  him  drop  that  label  on  the 
floor  of  the  Bonham  and  telephone  Joe  Fong, 
I  suppose." 

This  first  intimation  that  they  knew  to  whom 
he  had  telephoned  must  have  come  as  a  shock, 
but  Villabosa  had  had  many  hours  to  consider 
all  the  possibilities  of  the  law's  demands  upon 
him  in  connection  with  Puenta's  death,  and  he 
replied  coolly: 

"  I  did  not.  I  don't  know  what  evidence  you 
think  you  have  that  makes  you  say  I  telephoned 
to  a  Joe  Fong  or  anybody  else,  but  even  if  you 
were  able  to  prove  that  I  did,  and  even  if  you 
were  able  to  prove  that  I  told  him  Puenta  had 
a  lost  paper,  that  wouldn't  prove  that  I  wanted 
him  killed  or  that  I  knew  he  would  be  killed." 

"  You're  quite  a  lawyer,  ain't  you? "  Dalton 
remarked. 

"  It  doesn't  take  a  lawyer  to  know  that  much," 
Villabosa  said.  "  I  don't  know  who  killed 
Puenta,  or  anything  about  it." 

"  Where  is  that  other  diamond?  "  Napier  asked 
again. 

"  I  don't  know." 

He  did  not  say  it  sincerely,  nor  did  he  put  him 
self  out  particularly  to  make  his  words  sound 
sincere. 

"  Has  it  been  delivered  to  Kalat? " 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          241 

The  expression  of  puzzled  surprise  that  flitted 
over  Villabosa's  face  was  not  feigned.  "  Is  that 
a  man  or  a  place? "  he  asked.  "  I  don't  know 
the  name." 

"  Has  Sastanada  got  it?  " 

This  time  his  ignorance  was  counterfeited. 
"  I  don't  know  him,  either." 

4  You  don't  think  you  have  a  chance  in  a  mil 
lion  of  ever  doing  any  more  work  with  this  par 
ticular  gang,  do  you?  Or  of  getting  any  share 
of  whatever  the  gang's  profits  are  from  handling 
that  stone  for  Sastanada.  You  see  we  know  you 
had  it  brought  across.  Wouldn't  you  be  show 
ing  ordinary  common  sense  if  you  got  in  out  of 
the  rain  while  the  getting  in  is  good?  " 

"  If  there  is  another  diamond  anywhere," 
Villabosa  replied  warily,  "  and  if  I  had  any  idea 
where  it  was,  wouldn't  I  be  showing  ordinary 
common  sense  if  I  kept  my  mouth  shut  until  I 
found  out  what  the  proposition  was?  You 
haven't  said  anything  yet  to  show  me  where  I'd 
be  getting  in  out  of  the  rain  any  more  by  talking 
than  I  would  by  keeping  still." 

*  We'll  listen  to  any  proposition  you  want  to 
make,"  Napier  told  him. 

Villabosa  was  prepared  with  it.  "I  don't  ad 
mit  I  know  a  thing  about  any  other  diamond,  orf 
if  I  did,  that  I  have  the  slightest  idea  where  it 
is,"  he  said.  "  But  if  I  did,  I  should  make  a 
suggestion  something  like  this:  I  might  be  will 
ing  to  tell  all  I  knew,  privately — not  as  state's 
evidence,  in  court;  I'd  take  a  sentence  in  jail  be- 


242          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

fore  I  would  go  that  far  to  antagonize  certain 
people — and  when  I  had  done  so,  and  you  had 
had  plenty  of  time  to  learn  whether  I  told  the 
truth  or  not,  I  go  free.  I  have  a  little  money  in 
a  bank  in  San  Antonio.  Let  me  get  it.  Then 
let  me  get  out  of  the  country.  Not  to  Mexico. 
Say  to  Cuba  or  South  America." 

Napier  shook  his  head.  "  Not  a  chance,"  he 
replied. 

"  Then  you  can  find  out  where  that  diamond 
is  by  yourself — and  by  the  time  you  get  track  of 
it  they  will  have  heard  of  what  happened  at  Eagle 
Pass,  and  " — he  waved  his  hand  widely  and  con 
cluded  with  a  most  characteristic  American  ex 
pression — "  blooie! " 

Napier  turned  to  Dalton.  "  You  talk  to  him, 
Captain." 

The  Ranger  fixed  a  stern  eye  on  the  Mexican, 
but  his  first  words  seemed  to  refer  only  to  the 
recent  exhibition  of  American  idiom.  '  You 
speak  English  pretty  fluently,  don't  you?  Where 
did  you  learn? " 

"  I  have  a  moderately  good  education,"  Villa- 
bosa  shrugged. 

"  You  must  have  come  of  a  pretty  good  fam 
ily.  Where?" 

"  That  is  my  concern.  My  family  has  nothing 
to  do  with  this  matter." 

"  No,"  Dalton  agreed.  "  I  suppose  it  hasn't. 
It  was  just  my  idea  that  perhaps  there  was  a  time 
when  you  wasn't  mixed  up  with  a  gang  of  crooks, 
like  you  are  now.  I  thought  maybe  something 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          243 

might  have  come  up  that  pried  you  loose  from 
associating  with  decent  people.  You  might  have 
made  a  mistake,  or  something." 

Villabosa's  eyes  were  suspicious,  but  he  did  not 
answer. 

"  Well,"  the  Ranger  went  on.  "As  you  say, 
your  family  and  where  you  came  from  and  all 
that  is  your  concern.  But  where  you  go  is  ours. 
Now  I've  been  talking  your  case  over  a  little 
with  Mr.  Napier,  here, — and  with  one  or  two 
other  people, — and,  as  long  as  you've  declared  so 
strong  and  positive  what  you'll  do  and  what  you 
won't  do,  I'll  do  a  little  declaring  myself." 

He  paused  a  second  and  then  went  on,  evenly: 
"  There's  something  in  what  you  say  about  going 
on  the  witness  stand  and  testifying  against  those 
Chinks;  I  don't  suppose  I'd  want  to  do  it  myself. 
And  we're  prepared — I'm  speaking  for  Mr. 
Napier,  of  course;  he's  just  letting  me  do  the 
talking  at  this  stage  of  the  game  because  I've  had 
a  little  more  experience  with  fellers  of  your  kind 

than  he  has  and By  the  way,  have  you  ever 

happened  to  hear  about  any  experiences  any  of 
your  bandit  friends  ever  had  with  me?  " 

"  I  have  no  bandit  friends,"  Villabosa  said  sul 
lenly,  but  it  was  clear  enough  his  recollection  was 
supplying  incidents  such  as  those  to  which  the 
Ranger  referred. 

"  I  merely  asked  that  so  you  could  remember 
that  I've  got  a  habit  of  keeping  my  promises. 
Well,  as  I  was  saying,  maybe  you  won't  have  to 
testify  against  anybody.  Maybe  we  can  produce 


244          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

the  evidence  that  convicts  you  and  all  the  rest  of 
the  gang  for  the  smuggling  without  any  of  your 
fellow  crooks  having  to  know  that  you  gave  them 
away  at  all.  That  remains  to  be  seen.  If,  after 
you've  told  us  the  facts,  we  can  get  away  with  it 
that  way,  we  will.  Then  your  life  will  be  moder 
ately  safe  after  you  get  out  of  the  pen.  So  that's 
understood.  But  you  are  going  to  tell  us.  And 
in  token  of  our  appreciation  of  your  doing  it  we 
are  going  to  try  you  for  smuggling,  or  let  the 
San  Antonio  police  have  you,  perhaps,  for  being 
accessory  to  the  murder  of  Puenta.  That  is,  if 
they  want  you,  which  perhaps  they  won't." 

"  I'm  likely  to  tell  you  under  those  circum 
stances,"  Villabosa  sneered. 

"  But  if  you  don't  tell  us  all  you  know — who 
killed  Puenta,  where  the  diamond  is,  who  is  in 
the  gang  and  where  its  headquarters  is — Mr. 
Napier  is  going  to  turn  you  over  to  me,  and  I'm 
going  to  take  you  down  to  the  river  and  push  you 


across." 


The  prisoner  sensed  that  a  threat  was  concealed 
in  this,  but  he  could  not  see  where.  "And  shoot 
me  while  I'm  swimming,  or  something  like  that?  " 

"  Oh,  we're  no  murderers,"  Dalton  assured 
him.  "  No,  I  wouldn't  harm  a  hair  of  your  head. 
I  would  just  take  you  to  the  middle  of  the  river 
and  say  to  whatever  Mexican  officer  came  out  to 
get  you,  '  Here's  a  fellow  countryman  of  yours 
that  we  don't  need  over  here.  You  better  take 
him  and  see  that  he  keeps  out  of  trouble  here 
after.'  At  Matamoras." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          245 

Somewhere  in  that  last  word  Villabosa  knew 
the  threat  centered,  but  still  it  was  meaningless  to 
him.  "At  Matamoras?  "  he  repeated. 

"  It's  the  darndest  thing,"  the  Ranger  went  on 
conversationally,  "  how  a  man's  mistakes  of  judg 
ment  will  come  up  to  bother  him.  Take  your  old 
friend  Pancho  Villa,  for  instance.  Right  now 
he's  getting  his  revolution  livened  up,  tying  up 
to  some  right  good  men  as  I  understand  it,  and 
hoping  the  past  will  be  overlooked,  but  most 
folks  kain't  forget  that  two-three  years  ago  he 
was  raising  the  devil  in  the  bandit  line.  It  was 
back  of  that  when  you  and  he  were  friends, 
wasn't  it? " 

"  I  never  knew  Villa,"  the  Mexican  said 
shortly. 

"  That  so?  Well,  one  of  Pancho's  failings  has 
been  that  he  guessed  wrong  how  things  were  com 
ing  out,  one  time  and  another.  ...  I  heard 
about  another  Mexican  that  shore  busted  things 
wide  open  for  himself  making  a  bad  guess.  He 
guessed,  when  Pancho  was  going  at  his  best,  that 
he  was  going  to  win,  and  there  wouldn't  be  any 
comeback  for  those  that  tied  up  to  him.  This  fel 
ler  had  been  supposed  to  be  quite  decent.  Had  a 
good  family  and  a  good  practice — I  didn't  men 
tion  he  was  a  lawyer,  did  I?  Yes,  he  was  a 
lawyer.  Got  part  of  his  education  here  in  the 
States.  Quite  a  respected  citizen  there  in  Chi 
huahua." 

Villabosa  wet  this  lips. 

"  That  time  when  Villa  and  his  gang  took  the 


246          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

city  in  Chihuahua  where  this  man  lived,  folks 
there  had  to  choose  whether  they'd  tie  up  to  him 
or  stand  by  old  man  Carranza.  The  Carran- 
zistas  got  out  of  town — if  they  could.  This 
lawyer  I'm  telling  you  about  would  naturally 
have  been  with  the  Constitutionalists,  I  reckon, 
if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  woman.  Not  exactly  a 
woman,  either;  she  wasn't  more'n  a  girl,  way 
it  was  told  to  me.  He'd  been  trying  to  make  a 
hit  with  her  for  some  time,  with  nothing  what 
ever  doing.  For  one  thing,  he  was  about  old 
enough  to  be  her  grandfather.  For  another,  she 
was  already  in  love  with  a  youngster  about  her 
own  age. 

"  Well,  Villa  came  in.  Some  of  his  dorados 
captured  a  number  of  young  women,  you  may 
have  heard.  So  many,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
it  didn't  especially  interest  Pancho  who  got  some 
of  'em.  And  right  there  was  where  this  lawyer 
Mexican  made  his  error  of  judgment.  He 
thought  Villa  was  going  to  continue  to  be  the  big 
noise  not  only  in  Chihuahua  but  all  over  Mexico, 
and  he  wanted  the  girl.  So  he  made  a  trade  with 
Pancho.  The  lady  was  his  price.  Well,  when 
Villa  got  driven  out,  there  wasn't  anything  for 
this  Mex  lawyer  to  do  but  get  out,  too.  He  for 
feited  quite  considerable  property,  to  say  nothing 
of  having  no  small  number  of  Constitutionalists 
telling  what  they  would  do  to  him  if  they  ever  got 

a  chance.     Julia Did  I  mention  that  the 

girl's  name  was  Julia  Trejo,  a  member  of  that  old 
Trejo  family?  Julia  wasn't  with  him  when  he 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          247 

arrived  in  Texas.  It  seems  she  had  committed 
suicide  some  time  before  that.  Within  a  week 
after  Pancho  turned  her  over  to  you,  wasn't  it?  " 

Villabosa  did  not  answer.  He  was  watching 
Dalton's  face  as  a  captured  mouse  might  watch 
a  leisurely  cat. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  forgot  to  say  that  she  had  a 
couple  of  brothers.  The  young  one — named 
Roberto — wasn't  in  Chihuahua  at  that  time. 
The  other  was  trying  to  prevent  Pancho's 
dorados  from  taking  his  sister  when  one  of  them 
ran  a  bayonet  through  him.  You've  never  met 
up  with  any  of  the  Trejo  family  since  then,  have 
you?  It  will  be  quite  an  interesting  reunion." 

Dalton  leaned  over  and  carefully  jammed  out 
the  fire  at  the  end  of  his  nearly  consumed  ciga 
rette.  Then  he  rolled  another,  and  all  the  while 
Villabosa  stared  apprehensively,  but  said  not  a 
word.  "  One  of  the  Carranza  officers  at  Mata- 
moras,"  Dalton  remarked  casually,  as  though  it 
were  entirely  an  afterthought,  "  is  Captain 
Roberto  Trejo." 

The  prisoner's  teeth  were  showing  at  the  cor 
ners  of  his  lips,  now,  but  neither  in  a  smile  nor  a 
sneer.  Undisguised  fear  gleamed  in  his  eyes, 
and  his  voice  shook  as  he  cried,  "  Not  to  him!  " 

"Afraid  he'd  take  too  long  killing  you?  "  Dal 
ton  asked  cheerfully.  "  Well,  I  reckon  you're 
right.  I  happened  to  hear  how  he  said  he'd  do 
it,  and  the  programme  was  quite  thorough. 

However "  The  Ranger  spread  his  hands 

and  sat  back,  inhaling  his  new  cigarette  content-^ 


248          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

edly.  "  It's  up  to  you,  of  course.  You  can  go 
or  stay." 

Yillabosa's  restraint  broke,  and  he  cursed  in 
two  languages. 

"  I  don't  blame  you,"  Dalton  said  sympathetic 
ally.  "  I'd  be  a  little  worked  up  if  I  was  in  your 
place  and  was  going  to  be  turned  over  to  Roberto 
Trejo — with  handcuffs  on." 

"  I  am  not,  and  you  know  I  am  not! "  Villa- 
bosa  raged.  "  You've  got  me,  damn  you!  But 
I  don't  know  a  thing  more  about  that  killing  of 
Puenta  than  I've  told  you — except  that  I  did 
telephone  Joe  Fong  he  had  the  label  that  had  dis 
appeared.  I  don't  know  who  killed  him.  I 
didn't  ask.  And  that  is  all  I  can  tell,  because  it 

is  all  I  know.  But  as  to  the  diamond " 

His  face  worked  convulsively.  "  I  hold  you  to 
that  promise  not  to  turn  me  over  to  Trejo.  I'll 
tell  where  it  is." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  Napier  asked  him  a  final 
question : 

"  Does  Charles  Toy  read  Spanish  or  English, 
or  both?" 

"  He  doesn't  speak  Spanish.  I  think  he  reads 
English  more  or  less;  I  don't  know  how  much." 

At  Napier's  request,  Dalton  got  paper,  pen 
and  ink.  "  Write  what  I  dictate,"  the  treasury 
agent  commanded,  and  Villabosa  indited  this 
note: 

CHARLES  TOY: 

My  associate  at  the  border  has  been  ar- 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          249 

rested.  His  messenger  was  shot.  The 
officers  have  the  package  that  is  of  special 
value.  With  my  partner  under  arrest,  I 
fear  they  will  be  after  me,  and  I  am  going  to 
get  across  into  Mexico  to-night. 

"  The  idea  will  be,  when  you  see  your  old 
friends  again,  that  you  were  caught  after  you 
wrote  this  letter  and  before  you  could  make  your 
get-away,"  Napier  explained.  "Also  that  this 
note,  which  you  are  supposed  to  have  given  to  a 
Chinaman,  was  also  seized.  Perhaps  the  China 
man  was  arrested.  All  right;  we'll  continue:" 

The  bearer,  Charley  Chew,  happened  to 
be  here  in  Eagle  Pass.  For  value  received, 
I  have  transferred  to  him  all  my  interest  in 
the  article  that  is  behind  the  door  with  the 
five  padlocks,  and  have  given  him  my  key. 
You  will  settle  with  him  the  same  as  you 
would  with  me  if  I  could  get  there. 

"  Sign  your  name."  Villabosa  did  so,  and 
Napier,  as  soon  as  the  ink  was  dry,  put  the  note 
carefully  away  in  his  pocket.  "  Will  you  take 
me  to  the  first  train  for  San  Antonio?  "  he  asked 
Dalton.  "  I'll  get  you  word  as  soon  as  I  find 
whether  he  has  told  the  truth." 

Dalton  nodded  agreement.  "  Having  gone 
this  far,  I'd  shorely  like  to  be  in  with  you  at  the 
finish,"  he  said  regretfully,  "  but  my  job  is  to 
stay  with  this  Jiombre  until  we  find  whether  he's 
overlooked  anything  or  not.  If  he  hasn't,  I'll 


250         THE  CHINESE  LABEL, 

bring  him  back  to  San  'Ntonio.  If  he  has,  He 
and  I,  with  Hard  and  McQuestion  to  guard 
against  accidents,  will  be  making  a  little  trip 
down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Grande." 

"  Don't  worry,"  Villabosa  snarled.     "  I'm  not 
going  to  Matamoras." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

AGENT  GORDON  was  waiting  when  Napier's 
train,  in  the  early  evening,  pulled  into  the  palm- 
surrounded  station  at  San  Antonio.  "  Mr. 
Lamb  would  have  come  down  to  meet  you  him 
self,"  he  said,  "  but  a  matter  came  up  that  is 
likely  to  keep  him  busy  all  the  evening.  So  he 
had  Carver  relieve  me  from  watching  Kalat 
earlier  than  usual  and  asked  me  to  express  his 
regrets  and  do  the  best  I  could  to  take  his  place. 
If  there  is  anything  that  needs  his  special  atten 
tion,  we  can  get  hold  of  him,  and  he  can  break 
loose.  I've  got  my  own  little  car  here." 

When  they  were  seated  in  it  and  on  their  way 
to  the  Bonham,  Napier  briefly  put  Gordon  in 
touch  with  such  developments  of  the  case  as  were 
subsequent  to  the  Eagle  Pass  incidents.  Then 
he  asked,  "  What  has  Kalat  been  doing?  " 

"  Nothing  exciting.  Wandering  around  like 
a  lost  soul,  principally.  He  has  been  to  the 
Chinese  house  every  day,  and  he  called  at  the 
Bonham  once  to  ask  for  Villabosa,  and  since  then 
has  telephoned  five  or  six  times;  I  suppose  he 
doesn't  want  the  hotel  people  to  get  too  familiar 
with  his  looks.  And,  two  evenings,  he  has  called 
on  the  Glenns  at  the  Edgemont." 

"  Nothing  has  happened  to  the  Glenns?  " 


252          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Gordon  looked  surprised.  "  Happened  to  the 
Glemis?  Not  that  I  know  of.  The  most  inter 
esting  thing  I  have  observed  in  keeping  track  of 
Kalat  is  that  somebody  else  is  doing  it,  too. 
There  is  another  man  following  him  a  good  deal 
of  the  time — especially  after  dark.  A  stranger 
to  me.  A  Mexican.  Perhaps  his  own  gang  has 
him  under  observation." 

"  It  sounds  plausible  enough,"  Napier  agreed. 
"  Everybody  in  the  gang  seems  to  be  double- 
crossing  about  everybody  else.  The  common 
members  of  the  Chinese  society  don't  know  that 
anything  is  being  smuggled  except  opium.  The 
big  Chinks  distrust  their  Mexican  friends  so 
much  that  they  don't  let  them  know  exactly  where 
they  keep  the  dope,  although  it  is  probably  some 
where  in  the  big  house,  seeing  that  the  diamond  is 
there — or  was,  the  last  Villabosa  knew.  The 
Mexicans  are  so  suspicious  of  the  Chinese  that 
they  won't  even  trust  them  to  keep  the  jewel  in 
a  combination  safe.  And  Kalat  seems  to  have 
done  the  most  artistic  double-crossing  of  all.  He 
has  them  believing  that  the  two  diamonds  he  is 
bringing  in  are  worth  about  forty  thousand 
apiece,  which  would  make  the  total  duty  sixteen 
thousand  dollars.  They  think  he  is  paying  them 
half  the  regular  duty  when  he  agrees  to  give  them 
eight  thousand  for  the  whole  job." 

"  '  Honor  among  thieves,'  "  quoted  Gordon. 
"  Not." 

They  came  in  sight  of  the  Bonham.  "'  What 
is  the  programme? "  the  local  agent  asked. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          253 

"  I'm  not  sure  as  to  all  the  details  yet,"  Napier 
told  him.  "  First,  if  you  will,  I  wish  you  would 
go  to  your  office  and  get  that  padlock  key  that 
Villabosa  made  such  a  fuss  about  when  we 
wouldn't  let  him  keep  it.  A  little  later,  I'll  prob 
ably  want  you  to  get  some  men's  clothing  store 
friend  to  open  up  long  enough  to  let  me  buy 
quite  a  lot  of  stuff  I  shall  need — and  there  are 
things  I'll  want  to  get  at  a  drug  store,  also.  I 
think  we  could  get  the  diamond  without  anything 
more  complicated  than  an  ordinary  raid,  but  that 
wouldn't  get  the  men  that  are  involved,  or  pro 
duce  the  evidence  to  convict  them.  We  have  to 
catch  them  all  together  and  with  their  keys  in 
their  pockets.  And  that  means — I  have  been 
trying  to  think  of  some  other  way,  and  there  isn't 
any — that  I've  got  to  do  an  absolutely  fool  thing. 
For  the  third  time  in  my  life." 

"  Remarkable  record,"  Gordon  grinned. 

"  The  third  time  I've  done  this  one  particular 
fool  thing,"  Napier  amended,  smiling  with  him. 
"  It  worked  the  other  two  times,  which  makes  the 
odds  all  the  bigger  against  its  working  again. 
However It  couldn't  be  done  in  the  day 
time,  of  course,  but  perhaps  I  can  get  away  with 
it  by  artificial  light." 

"  The  details  sound  feasible,"  Gordon  agreed 
dryly. 

'  You  won't  think  so  when  you  see  me  with 
my  hair  coarsened  up  with  that  sticky  stuff  from 
the  drug  store,  and  an  artistic  and  quite  hopeless 
attempt  to  make  my  eyes  look  as  if  they  were 


254          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

almond-shaped.  You  will  think  it  is  crazy,  wild, 
foolish  Old  Sleuth  stuff,  which  we  know  isn't 
really  done." 

Gordon  was  plainly  surprised.  "  Letting  your 
whiskers  grow  and  dressing  like  a  bum  and 
griming  up  with  dirt,  I  guess  we've  all  done 
that  at  one  time  or  another,"  he  said,  "  but  I've 
always  supposed  no  American  or  European  could 
act  or  talk  like  a  Chinaman  well  enough  to  fool 
a  real  one.  And  you've  got  away  with  it  twice, 
you  say? " 

"  Not  as  a  regular  Chinaman.  I  don't  believe 
that  could  be  done, — by  any  one  except  Nick 
Carter, — and  if  it  could,  I  certainly  don't  talk  the 
language  well  enough  to  do  it.  But  an  Amer 
ican-born,  half-breed  Chinaman,  educated  in  the 
San  Francisco  schools  and  who  has  never  been  to 
China,  is  a  little  different.  Making  breaks  with 
the  language  is  discounted  in  that  case,  and  that 
leaves  the  success  of  the  experiment  largely  de 
pendent  on  looks  and  manners.  And  the  office 
corner  there  in  Charles  Toy's  restaurant  isn't 
very  brightly  lighted." 

He  grimaced.  "  But  I  don't  like  the  idea.  It 
is  bound  to  fail  if  I  meet  anybody  who  ever  saw 
me  before,  which  means  Kalat,  for  one.  And  it 
is  not  only  a  ticklish  job  to  get  away  with,  but 
I'll  feel  like  an  imitation  of  a  dime-novel  cle- 
teckertif  from  the  minute  I  begin  it  until  I  get 
it  finished,  if  I  have  that  much  luck.  Yet  it  is 
the  only  way  I  can  see  to  get  them  all  together, 
and  if  it  fails  we  aren't  any  worse  off  as  regards 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          255 

making  a  quick  raid  for  the  diamond.  Come 
back  as  soon  as  you  get  the  key,  will  you,  and 
come  right  up?  I'll  know  by  then  what  I'm  go 
ing  to  do  and  when  I'm  going  to  do  it." 

The  moment  he  was  in  his  room  he  called  the 
Edgemont. 

"  Miss  Glenn?  "  he  asked,  when  her  voice  came 
over  the  wire.  "  I've  just  got  back  to  town. 
I  hope  it  isn't  too  late." 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  even  in  the  monosyllable 
was  such  a  note  of  relief  and  pleasure  that  he 
beamed  fatuously  at  the  transmitter.  :<  Where 
are  you? " 

"  In  my  room  at  the  Bonham." 

'  Will  you  please  hang  up  and  wait  a  few  min 
utes?  I'll  call  you." 

The  bell  jangled  before  he  had  fairly  begun 
to  unpack  his  bag. 

"  I  am  downstairs  at  the  booth,"  she  said.  "  I 
didn't  want  to  talk  from  the  room.  I  was  afraid 
of  disturbing  my  father.  He  is  —  lying 
down." 

"  I  must  have  seemed  terribly  curt,  the  other 
night,  but  trains  won't  wait,  and  my  trip  couldn't 
possibly  be  postponed.  I  can't  tell  you  how 
sorry  I  was  that  I  couldn't  come." 

"  It's  all  right.  I  knew  you  were  from  your 
voice.  And  now  will  do  just  as  well." 

"  Shall  I  come  this  evening?  Say,  in  half  an 
hour  or  so?  " 

Miss  Glenn  hesitated.  "  I  couldn't  see  you 
here.  Could  we  ride  a  little  way?  We  couldn't 


256          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

be  gone  long;  I  have  to  get  back  to  father;  he 
isn't  very  well." 

"  I'll  be  there  with  a  car  at  half -past  eight,  if 
that  is  agreeable." 

"  I'll  be  ready." 

Gordon  came  in  while  he  was  hastily  getting 
into  clean  linen. 

"  Can  I  borrow  your  car? "  Napier  asked  him 
abruptly.  "  I  have  an  errand  that  would  call 
for  a  deaf  and  dumb  chauffeur,  and  I  don't  know 
any.  I  won't  be  gone  an  hour,  probably.  It's 
a  nervy  thing  to  ask,  but " 

"  No  nerve  at  all.  You  can't  do  anything 
to  that  car  that  I  haven't.  Sure  you  can  have 
it." 

"And  while  I'm  gone  you  had  better  round  up 
some  of  our  fellows,  as  many  as  you  can  get,  and 
have  them  ready  for  a  sudden  call.  Better  have 
one  of  them  go  over  and  keep  an  eye  on  the 
Chinese  house.  We  may  want  to  call  there  in 
force  later  in  the  night.  The  others  can  just 
stick  around  where  they  can  be  got  at.  And  then 
maybe  it  wouldn't  be  a  bad  idea  to  get  in  touch 
with  the  chief  of  police  and  see  if  we  can  have 
two  or  three  of  his  men  if  we  need  them.  There 
are  at  least  four  people  to  catch,  and  several  ways 
to  get  out  of  that  house;  it  will  need  to  be  well 
surrounded." 

"  Better  one  too  many  than  one  too  few,"  Gor 
don  agreed.  "  I'll  attend  to  it.  And  that  men's 
clothing  chap  that  you  mentioned?  " 

"  Yes.     If  he  will  be  at  his  store  at  a  little 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          257 

after  nine It  may  be  nine-thirty  before  I 

get  back,  but  I  shall  come  as  soon  as  I  can." 
"  He  won't  mind  waiting;  he's  a  good  friend  of 


mine." 


"  I'll  meet  you  here  at  the  hotel.  And  I'll  try 
to  bring  Tin  Lizzie  back  with  all  her  cylinders 
and  wheels  in  their  normal  places.  Has  she  got 
any  especial  peculiarity? " 

"  She  rattles." 

"  I  said  especial  peculiarity." 

They  went  down  in  the  elevator.  As  they 
were  passing  the  desk,  a  clerk  called  to  Na 
pier. 

"A  lady  was  here  asking  for  you  twice  yester 
day,"  he  said,  low-voiced.  "  Late  in  the  after 
noon  and  again  in  the  evening.  She  was  here 
again  this  afternoon.  We  couldn't  tell  her  when 
you  would  be  in,  of  course.  She  did  not  care  to 
leave  her  name." 

"  What  sort  of  looking  lady? "  Napier  asked. 

"  Very  dark.  Very  dark  indeed.  Spanish, 
perhaps,  although  she  had  no  accent." 

"  Thank  you.  If  she  should  come  in  again, 
tell  her  I  am  back,  will  you,  and  that  she  can  find 
me  here  any  time  to-morrow." 

He  rejoined  Gordon,  and  they  went  out  and 
up  the  side  street  to  where  the  treasury  agent  had 
parked  his  car.  Gordon  warned  him  regarding 
two  or  three  traffic  rules  which  differ  substantially 
from  most  Eastern  regulations,  advised  him  as 
to  the  quantity  of  gas  on  hand,  remarked  cheer 
fully  that  the  left  rear  tire  might  last  forever  but 


258          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

was  much  more  likely  to  give  out  inside  of  five 
miles,  and  let  him  depart. 

Miss  Glenn  was  waiting  in  the  Edgemont  en 
trance.  They  spoke  only  commonplaces  until 
they  had  reached  a  suburb.  Then  she  said: 

"  I  have  to  get  back;  I  mustn't  leave  father  too 
long.  Do  you  suppose  you  could  find  some  wide 
place  where  we  won't  be  disturbed,  and  pull  up 
by  the  side  of  the  road?  Perhaps  you  would 
rather  not  drive  and  listen,  too."  She  laughed 
a  little.  "  Not  while  driving  somebody  else's 
car  for  the  first  time,  over  roads  you  never  saw 
before,  anyway." 

He  admitted  the  reasonableness  of  this,  found 
a  place  where  there  was  little  traffic,  drew  up  at 
the  side,  and  shut  off  his  power.  She  did  not 
speak  at  once,  clearly  at  a  loss  exactly  how  to 
begin.  "  I  hope  I  can  be  of  some  real  help  to 
you,"  he  said,  to  make  it  easier. 

"  It  will  help  me  merely  to  tell  it,"  she  replied. 
"  I  don't  know  whether  you  can  advise  me  or  not, 
but  just  knowing  that  you  are  also  considering 
what  I  ought  to  do  will  relieve  my  mind.  I  have 
borne  it  alone  just  as  long  as  I  can." 

He  waited  sympathetically. 

"  I  might  as  well  confess  what  is  at  the  bottom 
of  it  all  and  have  it  over  with,"  she  went  on,  after 
a  few  seconds,  with  manifest  reluctance.  "  It — 

it  is  a  family  skeleton.  My  father My 

father  has  a  terrible  disease,  Mr.  Napier.  He  is 
addicted  to  a  drug." 

She  found  words  more  easily  now  that  the 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          259 

worst  was  told.  "  It  is  of  old  standing.  Pie  be 
came  addicted  in  the  Philippines,  after  he  was 
wounded.  You  believe  that  using  opium  is  a 
disease,  don't  you? " 

"  That  is  recognized  by  almost  everybody, 
these  days." 

"  He  has  tried  to  be  cured.  Nobody  can  ever 
know  how  hard  he  has  tried.  But  he  has  always 

gone  back.  And  now You  can't  imagine 

how  I  hate  to  tell  you  this,  but  he  is  in  danger. 
He  is  in  danger  of  doing  something  that  all  the 
money  in  the  world  wouldn't  have  induced  him  to 
do  when  he  was  himself.  He  isn't  himself  at  all, 
you  know.  When  he  cannot  get  the  drug " 

"  I  know,"  Napier  assured  her  gently.  "  They 
are  not  really  to  blame  for  what  they  do  then." 

;'  There  never  was  a  better  father,"  she  said. 
"  My  mother  died  when  I  was  five  years  old,  and 
he  was  mother  and  father  both.  We  were  chums. 
I  was  almost  grown  when  he  came  out  of  the 
hospital  and  found  that  he  couldn't  give  up  the 
drug.  It  is  so  easy  for  one  to  get  it  over  there 

in  the  East,  in  some  forms.  After  a  while " 

She  paused,  then  went  on  bravely,  "After  a  while 
it  got  the  better  of  him  and  he  left  the  army. 
From  that  day  until  now  he  has — he  has  never 
been  better." 

"'  The  danger?  "  Napier  prompted  her. 

"  He  found  a  place  here  where  he  could  get  it. 
From  Chinese.  And  then,  after  a  while,  they 
wanted  him  to  help  them  distribute  it.  He  said 
he  wouldn't,  of  course,  and  they  shut  down  on. 


230          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

his  supply.  You  can  imagine  the  result.  All 
they  had  to  do  was  let  him  have  it  in  such  small 
quantities  that  he  would  never  be  quite  satisfied, 
vary  this  some  days  by  refusing  to  give  him  any — 
they  said  they  didn't  have  it — and  wait.  You 
know  how  a  Chinaman  can  wait." 

"  I  know." 

"  So  finally  he  told  them  he  would  do  it.  And 
I  know  perfectly  well  he  cannot.  Not  only  has 
he  promised  to  break  the  law,  but  he  hasn't  the 
brain  power,  any  longer,  to  do  it  successfully. 
I  know  how  the  officers  trace  back  the  way  the 
addicts  get  their  supply.  He  is  certain  to  be 
caught."  She  hesitated.  "  It  is  an  awful  thing 
that  he  should  be  willing  to  do  it,  but  I  know  it 
isn't  his  real  self  who  has  promised ;  it  is  the  slave 
to  the  drug.  It  would  be  terrible  enough  to  have 
him  working  for  these  Chinamen,  doing  an  illegal 
thing,  but  if  he  were  detected,  and  I  know  he 
would  be  sooner  or  later,  I  couldn't  bear  it.  I 
can't  sleep  without  dreaming  of  him  under  arrest. 
In  prison."  She  shuddered. 

"Had  you  thought  of  anything  I  can  do?" 
Napier  asked. 

"  No,  except  that  you  might  be  able  to  advise 
me.  He  promised  to  take  a  lot  of  opium  North 
and  deliver  it  to  various  people — mostly  Chi 
nese — in  several  cities.  They  want  us  to  start 
soon.  He  promised,  and  then  he  told  me;  you 
know,  perhaps,  that  they  babble  sometimes  when 
they  are  under  the  influence.  And  I  waited  until 
he  was  more  himself  and  pleaded  with  him,  and 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          2C1 

he  went  to  them  and  refused.  So  they  merely 
cut  off  his  supply  again.  He  had  enough  on 
hand  for  three  days,  and  to-day  is  the  third  day. 
He  is  sleeping  now,  and  when  he  wakes  there  will 
be  no  more.  He  will  struggle — a  little  while. 
But  in  the  end  it  is  always  the  same.  I  cannot 
hope  that  he  won't  go  back  to  those  Chinamen, 
sooner  or  later,  and  beg  for  opium — and  do  ex 
actly  as  they  say  to  pay  for  it."  She  sighed,  a 
hopeless,  pathetic  sigh.  "  Poor  old  daddy!  "  she 
breathed.  "  He  can't  help  it.  He  is  just  a  poor 
sick  wreck  of  a  man,  with  no  resistance  left. 
And  he  isn't  ever  going  to  be  any  better;  I  know 
that.  What  can  I  do  to  save  him  from  himself?  " 

"A  good  doctor  might "  Napier  began, 

but  she  interrupted  him:  "  We  have  had  the  best 
there  are.  Nobody  knows  how  much  he  has  suf 
fered  during  some  of  his  treatments.  He  won't 
do  it  again.  It  has  gone  too  far." 

"  You  say  he  has  no  supply?  I  take  it,  from 
that,  they  have  not  yet  turned  over  to  him  the 
stock  they  want  him  to  distribute." 

"  No.  They  have  some  plan,  when  they  do 
that,  to  protect  themselves  against  his  taking  it 
for  himself.  They  know  addicts  too  well  to  trust 
them." 

So  there  was  no  evidence  against  himself  in 
Captain  Glenn's  possession,  and  he  had  not  yet 
made  himself  amenable  to  any  law.  Napier 
tremendously  wanted  to  assure  the  girl  that  he 
hoped,  within  a  day,  perhaps  within  a  few  hours, 
to  remove  this  particular  danger,  but  it  could  not 


262  m        THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

be  done.  He  wondered  if  she,  as  well  as  Madame 
Frezzi,  had  learned  of  his  connection  writh  the 
government.  He  put  out  a  suggestion  that 
ought  to  determine  it. 

"  If  you  knew  any  one  who  had  influence  with 

any  treasury  official "  he  mused,  and  left  the 

sentence  unfinished.  If  she  knew  he  was  a  treas 
ury  agent  she  would  believe  he  was  intimating 
that  he  might  be  able  to  exercise  some  pull  to  save 
the  situation  and  would  leap  enthusiastically  at 
the  idea. 

"  I  don't,"  she  replied.  "And  if  I  did,  they 
wouldn't  do  it.  I  can't  blame  them.  It  is  their 
duty.  No.  There  isn't  any  hope  in  that  direc 
tion." 

"  It  is  a  tough  problem,"  Napier  admitted. 
"  There  doesn't  seem  to  be  any  answer  to  it,  not 
right  off  the  reel,  anyway.  Perhaps,  if  I  can 
sleep  on  it  and  think  it  over,  something  will  come 
to  me  that  I  can  advise.  It  has  gone  several 
days  without  coming  to  a  crisis.  Probably  a 
little  more  delay  won't  make  it  any  worse." 

"  I  hoped  I  had  it  all  worked  out,  a  week  ago/' 
she  said.  "  I  thought  I  had  found  a  way." 
There  was  a  trace  of  bitterness  in  her  next  words. 
"  But  Lhadn't.  I  had  forgotten  that  *  East  is 
East  and  West  is  West.'  " 

He  looked  at  her  inquiringly,  and  she  saw  she 
ought  to  explain. 

*  There  is  a  man  connected  in  some  way  with 
those  Chinamen,"  she  said,  "whom  I  used  to 
know.  He  is  a  Turk  and  his  name  is  Yusef 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          263 

Kalat.  Yusef  Kalat  Bey.  I  knew  him  in  China, 
years  ago." 

Napier  was  himself  astonished  at  the  delighted 
relief  that  came  over  him  at  her  words.  She 
didn't  know  that  Kalat  had  been  made  a  pasha, 
and  Kalat  had  not  been  confidential  enough  with 
her  to  tell  her. 

"  Twice,  lately,  father  has  got  away  from  me 
at  night,"  she  was  going  on,  "  and,  both  times,  I 
found  him  at  the  place  where  the  Chinamen  are. 
Both  times,  also,  I  found  Kalat  Bey  there,  and 
he  rode  home  with  us.  Father  remembered  him, 
of  course,  and  was  glad  to  see  him.  He  has 
called  on  us  several  times  and  was  very  kind  and 
thoughtful.  He  isn't  going  by  his  real  name, 
by  the  way,  because  he  was  afraid,  he  says,  he 
would  be  interned  if  we  had  gone  to  war  with 
Turkey.  He  came  to  America  before  we  were 
in  the  war  at  all.  He  is  passing  as  a  Spaniard." 

She  did  not  seem  to  think  it  important  to  men 
tion  Kalat's  pseudonym,  and  Napier  did  not 
ask  it. 

"After  a  day  or  two — he  was  so  friendly — I 
asked  him  to  use  his  influence  with  the  Chinese  to 
have  them  release  father  from  his  promise.  He 
said  he  would."  She  hesitated,  then  went  on, 
"  But  that  is  over.  He  won't.  I  had  been  living 
so  long  in  America  that  I  had  begun  to  forget  the 
ways  of  the  East.  Kalat  Bey  helped  to  remind 
me  that  '  never  the  twain  shall  meet.'  Now  he 
is  more  likely  to  harm  us  than  help  us."  Napier 
did  not  ask  her  why,  but  she  told  him.  "  He 


264          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

became  tiresome — and  finally  insulting.  He  will 
not  come  again,  I  think." 

"  I  have  an  idea,"  Napier  told  her.  He  could 
not  be  definite.  "  If  it  works,  and  I  believe  it 
will,  I  want  you  to  go  home  and  rest  comfort 
ably  to-night,  Miss  Glenn,  without  bad  dreams. 
Your  father  isn't  going  to  prison.  He  isn't  even 
going  to  be  in  danger  of  going.  I  feel  sure  of  it. 
I  will  see  you  to-morrow." 

"  But  what  is  the  idea?     How  will  it " 

"  You  will  agree  it  is  a  practical  one  when  I 
tell  you.  Will  you  trust  me  if  I  don't  explain  it 
now? " 

"  I  would  like  to  know,  but  if  you  think  it 
best " 

"  Trust  me,  please,"  he  urged.  "  Believe  that 
I  shall  do  everything  I  can — and  that  I  shall 
succeed." 

The  confidence  in  his  voice  had  its  effect.  "  I 
do,"  she  told  him.  "  Somehow,  I  do.  You  don't 
know  what  a  relief  it  has  been  to  tell  you  and  to 
feel  that  the  worry  from  now  on  isn't  all  mine. 
You  see  there  hasn't  been  anybody  I  could  talk 
with  or  ask  for  advice.  There  never  has.  For 
years  father  and  I  have  been  alone.  I  couldn't 
make  friends,  without  their  finding  out  about  his 
failing.  Do  you  know,  I  haven't  one  close  friend 
in  the  world." 

""  Didn't  have,"  Napier  corrected  her. 

"Didn't  have,"  she  repeated,  smiling  a  bit 
tremulously. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

MADAME  FREZZI,  waiting  in  a  little  reception 
room  where  the  entrance  to  the  elevators  was  un 
der  her  eye,  stepped  swiftly  out  as  Napier  came 
hurrying  into  the  Bonham.  He  turned  at  the 
touch  of  her  hand  on  his  arm  and  with  difficulty 
refrained  from  exclaiming  at  her  changed  ap 
pearance.  She  looked  ten  years  older  than  when 
he  had  last  seen  her,  a  week  before. 

That  art  must  have  much  to  do  with  her  con 
tinued  youthful  appearance  he  had  vaguely  real 
ized,  but  he  had  never  guessed  how  much.  This 
night  she  had  neglected  all  her  customary  artifices 
of  the  toilet,  and  the  result  was  almost  startling. 
.  There  was  no  responding  smile  on  her  face  at 
his  polite  greeting,  and  her  voice  was  determined 
and  tense: 

"  I  must  see  you  alone.  Where  can  we  talk 
and  be  undisturbed?  " 

For  reply,  he  motioned  toward  the  elevator, 
which  had  descended  and  was  discharging  its 
passengers.  She  preceded  him  into  it  and  at  the 
first  stop  he  ushered  her  out  into  the  mezzanine 
balcony.  There  were  numbers  of  people  there, 
but  most  of  them  were  grouped  where  they  could 
look  down  on  the  lobby,  and  he  led  her  to  a  dis- 


266          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

tant  corner  where  they  would  be  out  of  hearing 
and  not  conspicuous. 

"  You  won't  think  I  am  discourteous,  I  hope," 
he  said,  as  he  placed  a  chair  for  her  and  took  a 
seat  facing  it,  "  but  I  have  to  be  economical  of 
my  time,  just  at  this  moment.  I  have  some  work 
to  do ' 

She  interrupted  him. 

"  You  will  have  some  work  to  do  after  you 
have  listened  to  me.  Whatever  thing  you  are 
working  on  will  not  be  of  great  importance  com 
pared  to  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you." 

Now  he  observed  that  the  contrast  between  this 
woman  and  the  Madame  Frezzi  with  whom  he  had 
talked  in  the  garden  was  not  merely  physical.  She 
was  not  only  altered  in  outward  appearance,  but 
beneath  externals  he  was  conscious  of  some  other 
change, — psychological,  perhaps  spiritual.  Her 
black  eyes  were  somber  and  her  voice  pitched  in 
a  deeper  key.  There  was  nothing  of  the  fiery 
passion  that  she  had  displayed  when  the  malicious 
acquaintance  had  telephoned  her  that  Kalat  was 
playing  the  squire  to  a  younger  and  more  beauti 
ful  woman,  but  in  the  repression  of  her  tones,  no 
less  than  in  the  set,  unsmiling  lines  of  her  face, 
Napier  sensed  a  burning,  unrelenting  glow  of 
vindictive  determination.  With  his  eyes  on  hers, 
he  bowed  and  waited. 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  Turk  named  Yusef 
Kalat  Pasha?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  He  is  Sastanada." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          267 

Napier  tried  to  let  his  face  express  the  right 
degree  of  surprise,  but  he  did  not  speak.  She 
was  continuing,  in  a  low  monotone: 

"  Pie  is  working  with  a  group  of  Chinese  and 
Mexican  smugglers,  and  they  are  bringing  into 
this  country  two  diamonds  that  are  called  the 
Gorgeous  Lily  and  the  Ray  of  Light.  Kalat 
looted  them  from  the  sultan's  sash.  One  of  them 
is  already  in;  it  is  here  in  San  Antonio,  at  a  house 
over  in  the  Chinese  quarter.  The  other  is  to  be 
brought  in  very  soon.  It  is  at  Piedras  Negras." 

"And  Kalat?  Why  didn't  he  bring  them  him 
self?  " 

"  He  came  in  with  a  false  passport,  as  a  Greek, 
through  Mexico.  He  knew  he  would  be  searched, 
and  he  had  no  familiarity  with  your  border  and 
the  ways  of  your  customs  officers.  So  he  left  the 
stones  at  Piedras  Negras  with  Chinamen  that  he 
could  trust.  They  belong  to  a  society  that  he 
had  done  business  with  when  he  was  in  China." 

"And  the  place  where  the  stone  is?  The  one 
that  has  reached  here?  " 

She  described  the  great  house.  "  There  are  a 
number  of  Chinese  interested  with  Kalat,"  she 
added.  "  I  know  the  name  of  only  one  of  them. 
It  is  Charles  Toy.  He  is  the  proprietor  of  a 
restaurant.  The  Mexican  who  was  killed  was  a 
messenger  who  came  and  went  between  him  and 
Kalat.  He  had  brought  word  to  Kalat,  that 
night,  to  come  to  the  Chinese  house  at  once,  and 
Kalat  had  gone  there,  when  I  got  him  to  take  my 
message  to  you." 


268          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  How  do  you  come  to  know  all  this? " 

"Kalatandl "  She  hesitated.  "We  have 

been  friends  for  a  number  of  years.  He  knew  I 
was  in  America.  He  sent  for  me  to  join  him 
here."  She  paused,  seemed  to  be  considering 
whether  it  was  worth  while  to  conceal  anything 
whatever,  and  then  went  on  in  the  same  toneless 
voice,  "  He  said,  after  this  matter  of  the  dia 
monds  had  been  settled  and  he  had  found  a  place 
to  remain  in  America,  that  we  would  be  mar 
ried." 

"And  something  has  happened  to  change  the 
programme? " 

'  To  make  it  impossible." 

She  did  not  explain.  Her  mind  was  in  a 
single  groove, — the  betrayal  of  the  man  she  had 
recently  wanted  to  marry.  Napier  wondered 
what  ignition  of  jealousy  could  be  responsible  for 
such  a  desperate  turning  against  him. 

"  Why  did  you  send  Puenta  to  find  me,  a  week 
ago  Monday  night?"  he  asked. 

"  I  told  you  the  truth  about  that;  at  least,  I 
told  you  part  of  the  truth.  I  had  heard  from 
Kalat  that  Captain  Glenn  was  concerned  with 
the  Chinese  smugglers;  that  he  had  met  him  at 
their  house.  And  I  wanted  him  removed."  She 
replied  simply  and  promptly  to  Napier's  look  of 
inquiry,  "  Because  I  wanted  his  daughter  re 
moved.  If  he  were  taken  away,  she  would  go. 
When  Kalat  joined  us,  that  night  of  the  parade, 
just  after  I  saw  you,  he  came  in  an  automobile 
with  Glenn  and  the  girl.  I  saw  him  bid  her 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          269 

good  night.  I  saw  how  he  looked  at  her.  I 
know  Yusef  Kalat." 

She  smiled  a  little,  bitterly.  "And  I  was 
right.  I  have  had  him  followed,  since  then,  and 
I  was  right.  Well,  what  of  it?  You  are  think 
ing  that  this  has  something  to  do  with  my  coming 
to  you  to-night  and  telling  you  about  Kalat  and 
his  smuggling,  and  you  are  mistaken.  I  was 
jealous,  but  I  am  not  jealous  any  more.  Jeal 
ous!"  She  laughed;  a  mirthless,  dreary  laugh. 
"As  if  I  could  hold  him,  when  I  am  almost  old 
enough  to  be  her  mother !  But  one  must  care,  to 
be  jealous.  I  do  not  care  for  Yusef  Kalat." 
She  leaned  forward  and  her  suppressed  voice  fell 
still  lower.  "  I  want  you  to  get  him  and  his 
diamonds.  I  want  him  sent  to  prison.  Better 
still,  I  would  like  to  have  him  turned  over  to  the 
Allies.  To  those  who  are  going  to  punish  Turks 
for  what  they  did  to  the  weak  peoples,  during  the 
war.  Do  you  suppose  you  could  do  that?  " 

For  the  first  time  Napier  sensed  that  this,  in 
deed,  was  not  a  j.ealous  woman;  that  the  motive 
which  had  impelled  her  when  she  sent  for  him  be 
fore  was  not  the  urge  that  was  driving  her  now. 
It  is  something  more  than  pathetic,  it  is  some 
thing  tragic,  when  a  woman  of  her  type  suddenly 
determines  not  only  to  confess  her  increasing 
years  but  to  look  them,  but  back  of  her  changed 
manner  and  appearance,  back  of  her  tense,  low 
monotone,  he  grasped  a  deeper,  more  hopeless 
tragedy  than  the  loss  of  a  lover  or  the  sudden 
realization  of  a  forever  vanished  youth.  It  came 


270          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

to  him  that  her  smouldering  eyes  were  the  eyes 
of  an  Oriental  fanatic.  This  was  not  jealousy; 
it  was  cold,  remorseless  hate. 

"  What  has  he  done  to  you?  "  he  asked. 

"  The  news  came  yesterday,"  she  replied,  with 
out  emotion.  "  In  a  letter  in  yesterday  morn 
ing's  mail.  He  does  not  know  I  have  it.  I  have 
tried  four  times  to  find  you.  .  .  .  My  father, 
my  mother,  my  brother  and  two  sisters.  They 
have  been  dead  more  than  two  years,  and  Kalat 
told  me,  only  three  weeks  ago,  that  he  had  seen 
them  just  before  he  left  Turkey  and  that  they 
were  all  well.  Well  and  happy,  he  said. 

"  I  am  Armenian.  My  father  was  a  trusted 
eff  endi  of  the  sultan.  He  sent  me  to  be  educated 
in  Italy  and  France.  I  came  back  to  Constanti 
nople.  I  met  Kalat.  ...  It  was  some  time 
afterward  that  he  proposed  I  do  secret  work. 
You  did  not  know  I  represented  the  Turkish 
government,  of  course;  you  supposed,  if  you 
heard  anything  about  me  at  all,  that  I  was  in  the 
Italian  service.  That  was  what  we  wanted  every 
body  to  believe.  .  .  .  The  war  came.  Then 
the  massacres.  Kalat  promised  me  he  himself 
would  see  to  the  safety  of  my  family.  He  has 
assured  me,  all  along,  that  they  were  all  hidden 
and  safe.  He  even  gave  me  messages,  three 
weeks  ago,  that  he  said  they  sent  me  just  before 
he  left.  Not  in  writing,  of  course;  he  couldn't 
bring  writing.  .  .  .  Two  years  my  father  has 
been  dead,  and  my  mother,  and  my  brother  and 
sisters.  But  my  sisters  did  not  die  at  once.  .  .  * 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          271 

And  Yusef  Kalat  was  there,  in  Constantinople, 
with  power,  and  did  not  raise  his  hand  to  save 
them.  ...  I  thought,  at  first,  I  would  kill 
him,  but  that  would  be  too  quick." 

She  sat  a  moment  looking  at  the  floor.  "  Is 
there  anything  more  I  can  tell  you,  to  make  his 
punishment  more  certain?  "  she  asked  dully. 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said. 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and  they  were  as  hard  as 
her  voice.  "  I  do  not  want  sympathy,"  she  re 
plied.  "  I  want  Yusef  Kalat  to  suffer." 

"  I  shall  do  what  I  can,"  he  promised  her. 

Tung  Sheng  sat  in  the  little  office  in  the  corner 
of  Charles  Toy's  restaurant  when  Napier  entered. 
It  was  long  after  the  early  evening  rush  and  not 
quite  time  for  the  arrival  of  after-theater  patrons, 
and  few  people  were  at  the  tables.  The  pro 
prietor  was  not  in  evidence. 

Napier  felt  morally  certain  that  the  tint  of  his 
face  and  hands  and  the  coarse  stiffness  of  his 
black  hair  were  artistic  enough  to  pass  muster 
anywhere  by  artificial  light,  and  his  good  ready- 
made  clothes  were  well  in  character,  but  the  shad 
ing  that  gave  his  eyes  and  cheek  bones  as  much  a 
Chinese  appearance  as  was  necessary  for  a  half- 
caste  was  a  different  matter,  and  he  was  glad  to 
observe  not  only  that  the  office  corner  was  dimly 
lighted,  but  that  the  principal  electric  lamp,  over 
the  cashier's  desk  where  Tung  Sheng  sat,  was 
green-shaded.  He  stood  with  his  face  as  much 
in  the  shadow  as  was  possible,  without  empha- 


272          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

sizing  his  dislike  for  illumination,  and  addressed 
Toy's  manager  in  his  best  Cantonese: 

"  Is  this  the  honorable  Charles  Toy? " 

"  No,"  Tung  replied.  "  He  is  here,  in  back. 
He  will  be  out  in  a  moment.  I  am  Tung  Sheng." 

"  I  am  Chu  Chang,"  Napier  said.  "  Formerly 
of  San  Francisco,  where  I  was  born.  Also  I  am 
called  Charley  Chew.  I  have  come  from  the 
river,  where  I  met  a  Mexican  named  Villabosa." 
He  took  pains  to  pronounce  the  Spanish  name 
not  as  well  as  an  American  could,  but  a  little 
better  than  would  most  Chinese,  in  accordance 
with  his  pose  as  one  who  was  better  versed  in 
English  than  in  the  language  of  his  fathers. 

Tung  Sheng's  face  was  expressionless,  and  he 
did  not  reply. 

"  If  you  could  get  Charles  Toy  at  once," 
Napier  went  on,  "  I  have  a  message  for  him  that 
needs  to  be  acted  on  quickly,  I  think.  You,  also, 
are  interested  in  the  message.  And  another. 
One  Joe  Fong." 

Tung  called  to  a  waiter  and  sent  him  to  sum 
mon  the  pair.  The  old  restaurant  keeper  came 
through  from  the  direction  of  the  kitchen,  a  mo 
ment  later,  followed  by  the  Chinese-Mexican 
Fong.  Tung  Sheng  made  his  introduction 
laconic  and  without  significance,  but  Napier 
thought  a  sign  passed  between  them  as  he  spoke : 

"  This  is  Chu  Chang,  once  of  San  Francisco. 
He  comes  from  the  river,  he  says,  with  a  mes 
sage."  To  Napier  he  said,  "  This  is  Ng  Choy, 
who  is  called  Charles  Toy." 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          273 

"I  cannot  bear  it!"  Napier  exclaimed,  with 
his  best  Chinese  etiquette.  "  Even  the  sound  of 
your  name  stuns  me." 

"  I  am  too  greatly  honored.  I  do  not  deserve 
it,"  Ng  Choy  replied. 

"And  this  is  Joe  Fong,"  Tung  Sheng  said. 
Napier  spoke  with  politeness  to  him,  also,  but  the 
reply  was  muttered  and  most  perfunctory.  The 
upbringing  of  Joe  Fong,  obviously,  had  not  been 
well  attended  to. 

Napier  looked  about  to  see  that  no  waiters 
were  within  hearing.  Then  he  took  from  his 
pocket  the  note  Villabosa  had  written  and  passed 
it  to  the  old  Chinaman,  who  read  it  slowly. 
Some  of  the  words  seemed  to  give  him  trouble 
and  he  looked  up  at  Napier.  "  Do  you  read 
English  well?  "  he  asked. 

"  My  education  is  public  school,"  Napier  re 
plied,  with  just  the  touch  of  pride  that  he  thought 
an  American-born  Chinaman  might  have  used, 
glad  of  the  opportunity  to  again  emphasize  the 
reason  for  such  inaccuracies  of  Cantonese  tone 
shading  as  they  all — at  least  the  two  older  men — 
must  already  have  observed. 

"  Read  this  to  us  aloud,  in  our  own  tongue." 

Napier  translated  it.  The  faces  of  both  Ng 
Choy  and  Tung  Sheng  remained  without  ex 
pression  as  he  read,  but  Joe  Fong  scowled 
angrily.  He  did  not  speak,  however,  but  waited 
for  his  elders.  Ng  Choy  took  back  the  note  when 
Napier  had  finished,  and  studied  it  through  his 
big  glasses,  locating  and  defining  for  himself  the 


274          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

words  that  the  translation  had  made  clearer. 
When  he  had  finished,  he  looked  blandly  at 
Napier  and  asked: 

"  Did  he  go  to  Mexico?  " 

"  I  do  not  know.  He  was  to  attempt  it  after 
dark.  He  had  no  pass.  I  came  away," 

"  You  are  to  receive,  he  says,  what  he  was  to 
receive.  What  is  that?  " 

"  It  was  to  be  three  thousand  dollars  for  him 
and  his  friend  Flores,  when  both  stones  were  de 
livered.  He  supposed,  for  one,  it  would  be  fif 
teen  hundred." 

"And  your  arrangement  with  him?  "  It  was 
Joe  Fong  who  asked  this  question.  "  What  was 
your  arrangement  with  him?  " 

Napier  gestured  toward  the  note.  "  Value  re 
ceived,"  he  said.  Ng  Choy  nodded  quietly,  ap 
proving  of  the  answer  as  adequate. 

"  I  do  not  enjoy  this  transferring  of  interest 
from  one  to  another,"  Joe  Fong  said.  His  look 
was  hostile;  it  was  the  dislike  of  the  Mexican 
half  of  him  for  the  gringo  half  of  this  ex-San 
Francisco  public-school  graduate. 

"  What  is  past  is  not  of  mighty  importance," 
Tung  Sheng  said.  "  It  is  gone.  The  present  is 
here,  and  the  future  approaches." 

"  Where  did  you  say  this  stone  you  speak  of 
is?  "  Ng  CHoy  asked. 

"  In  the  safe  with  five  padlocks,"  Napier  told 
him  promptly.  "  One  key  is  in  the  hands  of 
each  of  you,  one  key  in  the  hands  of  Sas'anada, 
and  one"  —  he  produced  the  flat  key  that 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          275 

had  been  taken  from  Villabosa  —  "in  my 
hands,  as  this  writing  says.  And  if  I  may 
speak  in  the  presence  of  those  so  much  older  and 
wiser " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Ng  Choy. 

"  It  would  be  well  to  use  the  five  keys  and  com 
plete  the  bargain  that  was  made  with  Sas'anada 
very  soon.  The  officials  of  the  government  may 
be  able  to  learn  where  the  stone  is.  It  would  be 
better  if  we  had  delivered  it  and  received  pay 
ment  before  that." 

'  The  words  sound  wise,"  Ng  Choy  replied. 
"  What  is  your  province?  " 

"  I  have  never  been  in  China.  My  honorable 
father  was  a  Saitsiu  man." 

"And  your  business?  " 

"  I  am  an  obscure  and  often  unsuccessful 
speculator,"  Napier  said.  He  knew  the  others 
would  take  this  to  mean  that  he  was  a  fairly  well- 
to-do  gambler. 

Ng  Choy  thought  a  moment.  "  The  words 
are  wise,"  he  said.  "  Go,  Joe  Fong,  and  see  if 
you  can  get  Sas'anada  on  the  telephone.  Tell 
him  he  must  be  at  the  place  of  the  safe  at  twelve 
o'clock."  He  turned  to  Napier.  "  Whether  we 
find  him  by  telephone,  or  whether  we  have  to 
search,  we  will  have  him  there.  Will  you  wait 
here  and  go  with  us,  or  shall  I  describe  how  to 
find  the  place? " 

"  If  the  safe  has  not  been  moved,  I  know  the 
place  and  how  to  find  it,"  Napier  replied.  "  In 
the  great  house,  Villabosa  said,  in  the  dark  wine 


276          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

closet  that  opens  from  the  little  sitting-room  off 
what  once  was  the  dance  hall." 

"  He  has  instructed  you  well,"  the  old  man 
said.  "  The  outer  door  will  open  to  your  ring 
at  twelve  o'clock." 

Napier  murmured  the  proper  words  called  for 
by  politeness  and  thankfully  passed  from  the 
restaurant  without  once  looking  back.  He  had 
succeeded  in  deceiving  them  all  in  that  dim  light, 
and  perhaps  he  could  continue  to  deceive  them  in 
the  brighter  light  of  the  great  house,  but  he  did 
not  for  a  moment  believe  he  would  look  like  any 
one  but  Julian  Napier  to  one  who  already  knew 
him.  He  must  continue  to  utilize  the  disguise  to 
enter  the  headquarters  of  the  Chinese,  but  it 
would  be  quite  valueless  the  moment  he  came  face 
to  face  with  Kalat.  \ 

Gordon,  fifteen  minutes  later,  set  out  to  gather 
his  forces  as  speedily  as  possible.  There  would 
be  two  other  customs  agents  and  four  policemen. 
The  great  house  would  be  under  surveillance 
from  all  sides  before  half-past  eleven. 

"  That  will  be  enough,"  Napier  told  him.  "Ac 
cording  to  Villabosa,  we  will  have  only  four  men 
to  deal  with.  As  all  the  other  Chinese  ordinarily 
in  the  house  are  members  of  the  society  and  sup 
posed  to  have  an  interest  in  all  smuggling,  it  is 
necessary  to  get  them  out  when  the  diamonds  are 
being  dealt  in.  When  the  five  gathered  to  put 
the  first  stone  in  the  safe  and  each  lock  it  with  his 
own  key,  Villabosa  says  there  was  not  another 
Chinaman  in  the  house,  not  even  Wang  Ting, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          277 

who  is  the  confidential  top  servant.  Tung  Sheng 
or  Joe  Fong  tended  the  door." 

They  spoke  of  the  details  of  surrounding  the 
house,  and  Napier  arranged  to  meet  Gordon 
there  at  a  little  before  midnight  to  receive  his  re 
port  and  give  any  further  instructions  that  might 
become  necessary.  Then  he  went  to  the  grocery 
of  Kwong  Yet,  who  came  quickly  to  his  tap  on 
the  door  and  low-voiced  hail,  and  old  Kwong  Li 
and  his  nephew  almost  allowed  their  eyes  to  ex 
press  surprise  at  the  changes  in  his  appearance 
when  he  came  into  the  light  of  the  little  back 
room. 

"  This  seems  to  be  foolishness,"  Napier  said. 
"  It  would  not  deceive  you.  But  once  to-night  it 
has  deceived  men  who  do  not  know  me,  and  it  will 
be  again  useful,  later." 

"  It  is  excellently  done,"  old  Kwong  conceded. 

"  If  your  speech  did  not  betray  you "  He 

hastened  to  make  polite  explanation.  "  You 
speak  our  tongue  beautifully,  but  there  are  four 
teen  tones  in  the  Cantonese,  and  it  is  not  to  be 
expected  that  any " 

"  Barbarian,"  Napier  supplied,  smiling,  as  the 
old  man  hesitated.  "  I  have  not  claimed  to  be  of 
China,  but  only  half  Chinese." 

"  The  endurance  of  a  horse  is  determined  by 

how  far  it  can  go.  If  it  succeeded "  He 

dismissed  the  subject.  "We  have  wondered  why 
you  have  been  so  long  in  coming." 

"  I  have  been  out  of  the  city.  What  have  you 
learned?  " 


278          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  Not  much,  and  yet  a  thing  that  seems  to  me 
to  be  a  matter  for  satisfaction.  Six  men,  it  will 
be  remembered,  were  picked  to  wait  for  the  Mex 
ican  messenger  as  he  came  toward  the  great  house, 
that  night.  None  of  them  has  said  that  he  did  it. 
Yet  this  we  know,  that  when  the  men  were  being 
given  the  places  to  lie  in  wait,  one  of  them  said 
that  the  Mexican  was  accustomed  to  bear  mes 
sages  to  a  certain  house  and  had  fallen  into  the 
habit  of  always  coming  past  that  house  on  his 
way  to  and  from  this  quarter,  and  Joe  Fong 
spoke  and  said  that  he  would  wait  in  that 
path." 

"And  it  was  by  that  route  that  he  came,  and  in 
that  path  that  he  was  killed." 

Kwong  Li  inclined  his  head.  "  So  we  know 
what  befell,  although  it  is  not  evidence  such  as 
satisfies  judges." 

"  It  may  be  that  I  can  make  use  of  it,"  Napier 
said.  "  I  have  a  thought  that  I  may  be  able  to 
make  use  of  it  to-night.  In  the  meantime,  there 
is  another  thing.  A  number  of  men  you  have 
named  to  me  as  members  of  the  Society  of  the 
Fragrant  Lily,  and  yet  there  is  another  whose 
name  you  have  not  given.  Who  is  Wu  Tsai? " 

To  his  uncle's  inquiring  look,  the  younger 
Chinaman  shook  his  head  in  the  negative.  "  I 
have  never  heard  the  name  here,"  he  said. 

Napier  produced  the  complete  orange  label 
that  had  marked  the  tin  brought  in  by  Sanders. 
"  Here  is  the  address,"  he  said.  "  The  package 
bearing  this  label  was  to  have  been  delivered  to 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          279 

the  great  house.  *  To  the  Honorable  Wu  Tsai,' 
is  its  reading." 

Kwong  Li  took  the  paper  and  held  it  before 
his  eyes  under  the  light.  A  whimsical  smile 
wrinkled  the  corners  of  his  lips.  "  In  learning 
to  read  our  characters,  you  were  being  instructed 
by  one  who  spoke  the  official  tongue,  were  you 
not?"  he  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  You  think,  then,  when  you  read,  in  Man 
darin.  You  do  not  think  in  Cantonese." 

Napier  agreed  that  this  was  undoubtedly  true, 
in  so  far  as  he  thought  in  Chinese  at  all;  he  ad 
mitted,  in  reading,  he  usually  had  to  translate 
and  think  in  English. 

"  It  is  explained,"  the  old  Chinaman  said. 
"  These  characters  read  c  Wu  Tsai,'  in  Mandarin, 
as  you  thought,  but  in  Cantonese  one  speaks 
them  *  Ng  Choy.'  "  He  handed  back  the  label. 
"  The  number  of  men  you  seek  is  not  increased.'* 

With  thanks  and  protestations  of  regret  that 
he  must  hasten,  Napier  moved  toward  the  door. 
Kwong  Yet  spoke: 

"  If  it  is  permissible,  one  question.  You  said 
you  might  make  use  of  information  to-night. 
And  that  this  masquerade  had  succeeded  once 
and  might  again.  Might  I  ask  if  men — includ 
ing  the  enemy  of  this  house,  who  mocked  my 
uncle — are  to  be  seized  to-night?  I  would  like 
to  be  near  to  hear  the  news  early,  if  so.  Is  the 
question  permissible?" 

Napier  hesitated,  and  old  Kwong  saved  him 


280          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

the  necessity  of  a  direct  reply  by  quoting  senten- 
tiously  from  the  Analects: 

"  '  The  superior  man  acts  before  he  speaks, 
and  afterward  speaks  according  to  his  actions.' ' 

"  Thank  you,  Kwong  Li,"  Napier  said. 
"  Those  are  wise  words.  Nevertheless " — he 
smiled  at  Kwong  Yet — "  it  is  a  warm  night,  and 
pleasant,  with  many  stars.  A  pleasant  night  to 
remain  awake  for  a  time.  News  might  come  to 
one  who  sat  before  his  door,  in  the  darkness." 

Both  Chinese  bowed  grave  appreciation,  and 
the  elder  said,  "  Good  news  would  be  worth  sleep 
lessness,  even  to  one  who  is  old,  as  I  am;  sleep 
lessness  even  unto  the  dawn." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

UNDER  the  very  mulberry  tree  where  he  had 
stood  when  he  made  the  violent  acquaintance  of 
Villabosa,  Napier  found  Gordon. 

"  Three  Chinamen  have  gone  in,"  the  agent 
whispered.  "Toy  and  two  others;  probably 
your  two;  I  have  seen  them  at  the  restaurant. 
And  two  others  have  come  out,  since  Toy  went 
in,  and  gone  away." 

"  You  haven't  seen  anything  of  Kalat? " 

"  Here  he  comes  now." 

The  Turk  turned  into  the  broad  beam  of  light 
that  streamed  down  the  walk  from  the  cluster  of 
incandescents  over  the  door.  He  went  up  the 
steps,  rang,  and  there  was  a  slight  delay  before 
he  was  admitted. 

"  Nobody  to  tend  the  door,  as  we  expected," 
Napier  said.  "  Whoever  opened  it  came  from 
some  distance  away.  I'll  wait,  now,  until  they 
have  a  chance  to  get  to  wherever  the  meeting  is 
held — in  that  little  room  out  of  which  the  wine 
closet  opens,  probably — and  then  I'll  go  around 
and  come  up  the  walk  openly.  The  instant  the 
door  has  closed  behind  me,  come  as  fast  as  you 
can.  Who  is  the  other  man  that  will  be  with 
you?" 

"  Carver.     He  is  over  behind  that  little  house 


282          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

on  the  next  corner.     When  he  sees  me  start  he'll 


come." 


"  Leave  him  at  the  door,  after  you  get  in,  and 
go  with  me  yourself.  Your  other  man  and  the 
police  understand  what  they  are  to  do." 

"  They  will  close  in  immediately.  Anybody 
who  gets  out  of  the  house  cannot  help  being 
taken." 

"  All  right,"  Napier  agreed,  satisfied.  "  I'll 
be  starting." 

At  the  door,  after  ringing,  he  had  to  wait  a 
moment,  as  had  Kalat.  When  it  opened,  he 
faced  Tung  Sheng.  He  stepped  inside,  and  the 
Chinaman  saw  to  the  closing  and  fastening  of  the 
door.  Then  he  took  a  step  or  two  to  precede 
Napier  into  a  wide,  garish  room  that  opened  to 
the  right  off  the  front  hall,  and  as  he  did  so  the 
doorbell  rang  again. 

The  Chinaman  turned  quickly  and  leaned  for 
ward,  his  back  to  Napier,  to  inspect  this  new  ar 
rival  through  an  ingeniously  concealed  peephole 
by  the  side  of  the  door.  His  eye  had  not  reached 
it  when  the  hard  muzzle  of  a  pistol  pressed 
against  the  back  of  his  neck  and  Napier 
whispered,  "  Not  a  sound!  Open  the  door." 

A  brief  second  Tung  Sheng  hesitated,  then 
obeyed.  Gordon  came  in  noiselessly.  Beyond 
him,  near  the  edge  of  the  lawn,  another  man  could 
be  seen  running  toward  the  house  on  the  grass. 

"  Look  for  weapons  and  handcuff  him,"  Na 
pier  commanded,  under  his  breath.  "  Leave  him 
here,  then,  with  Carver.  It  won't  take  but  a 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          283 

minute  or  two.  Then  come  on  through  that  big 
room.  I'd  better  not  wait;  they  may  be  getting 
suspicious." 

He  turned  and  entered  the  big,  over-decorated 
room,  which  in  a  past  day  had  been  the  dancing 
apartment  of  "  Harmony  Palace."  On  the  far 
ther  side,  beyond  a  piano,  a  door  stood  open  and 
voices  came  from  beyond  it.  Napier  crossed  the 
dance  hall  and  stood  in  the  doorway. 

Across  from  him  sat  Ng  Choy,  at  ease,  calm 
and  impassive.  Joe  Fong,  beside  him,  was 
fidgeting.  At  a  little  distance,  Kalat  stood  with 
his  elbow  on  a  mantel.  Napier  thought  that  the 
older  Chinaman  had  been  telling  him  the  story  of 
Villabosa's  message,  a  guess  that  was  proven  true 
by  Ng  Choy's  first  words.  Kalat,  in  the  face  of 
the  news  that  one  of  the  jewels  had  been  seized 
and  that  he  must  hasten  to  get  the  other  away, 
with  a  possibility  of  close  pursuit,  was  alarmed 
and  nervous. 

Beyond  Ng  Choy,  a  door  stood  wide  into  what 
looked  like  another  small  room,  but  which  Napier 
knew  was  the  big  windowless  wine  closet  that  had 
served  the  house  in  its  day  of  notoriety.  A 
single  electric  light,  hanging  from  a  cord  in  the 
center  of  the  closet,  illuminated  it,  and  in  plain 
sight  from  where  Napier  stood  was  the  safe. 

Exactly  that  kind  of  safe  had  never  come 
under  his  eyes  before,  although  he  knew  they 
were  not  rare  in  Mexican  cities  where  many  Chi 
nese  are  included  in  the  same  business  com 
munity.  The  original  cause  for  such  receptacles, 


284          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

he  had  been  told,  was  a  grouping  together  of  sev 
eral  small  Chinese  merchants  to  buy  and  use  a 
safe  that  none  of  them,  as  an  individual,  needed 
or  could  afford ;  later  it  had  become  something  of 
a  custom,  in  a  country  where  they  did  not  trust 
either  banks  or  safe  deposit  boxes,  for  money 
and  other  valuables  in  which  several  men  had  a 
joint  interest  to  be  put  in  such  a  safe,  to  which 
one  could  gain  access  only  in  the  presence  of  all 
the  other  partners. 

It  looked,  except  for  its  face,  not  unlike  any 
other  iron  safe  two  feet  and  a  half  tall.  Its  door, 
however,  boasted  no  combination  dial.  Instead, 
there  extended  from  the  left-hand  side,  lacing 
across  the  crack  of  the  door,  one  below  the  other, 
five  hasps.  Each  ended  at  a  staple  that  was 
firmly  imbedded  in  the  door,  and  at  each  staple 
was  a  padlock.  Only  when  all  five  keys  were 
present  at  the  same  time  could  the  safe  be  opened. 

All  this  he  took  in  at  a  glance,  while  Ng  Choy 
was  saying: 

"  And  here  he  is.  Charley  Chew,  this  is  Mis- 
ser  Sas'anada." 

Kalat  looked,  looked  harder,  and  froze  into  as 
tonished  but  wary  immobility. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  he  demanded. 
"  This  is  an  American — named  Napier." 

"  Keep  your  hands  away  from  your  pockets," 
Napier  commanded.  "  It  means  you  are  under 
arrest.  I  am  a  Federal  officer."  He  shifted  his 
eyes  to  the  two  Chinese  and  changed  to  their 
tongue,  so  there  could  be  no  misunderstanding. 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          285 

"Don't  make  any  move  to  get  a  weapon.     It 
would  be  dangerous." 

Over  his  shoulder  they  saw  the  face  of  Gordon, 
who  had  come  across  the  dance  hall  noiselessly. 
Napier  stepped  into  the  room,  and  Gordon  took 
his  place  in  the  doorway. 

"  What  is  this  for?  "  demanded  Joe  Fong,  his 
face  black  with  anger.  '  We  have  done  noth- 
ing." 

"  As  to  the  others,  it  is  for  evading  duties," 
Napier  told  him.  "As  to  you,  there  is  something 
else  to  explain.  You  work  about  a  kitchen  too 
much,  Joe  Fong,  where  you  are  constantly  get 
ting  grease  on  your  hands,  to  take  a  chance  with 
finger  prints.  It  is  too  easy  to  get  a  picture  of 
your  fingers.  When  you  throw  anything  over  a 
wall,  at  night,  you  should  be  sure  the  same  marks 
are  not  on  it  that  you  leave  on  pots  and  pans  and 
plates  and  tables." 

"It  is  not  mine!"  Fong  shouted.  "I  did 
not  throw  any  knife  over  a  wall.  I  had  no 
knife." 

The  countenance  of  Ng  Choy  was  as  bland  and 
expressionless  as  ever.  "  So,"  he  murmured  in 
his  own  tongue.  "  It  was  done  well  and  thor 
oughly.  I  congratulate  you.  I  especially  con 
gratulate  you  " — his  voice  was  mild  and  amiable, 
but  his  eyes,  on  Napier's  face,  were  flat  and 
opaque — "  that  no  one  of  us  guessed  your  occu 
pation  when  you  were  at  the  restaurant.  If  so, 
some  accident  might  have  befallen  you  before 
now." 


286          THE  CHINESE  LABEL1 

Napier  ignored  the  old  Chinaman.  "  We'll 
see  what  kind  of  firearms  or  knives  they 

carry "  he  began,  to  Gordon,  when  there 

came  an  interruption.  The  doorbell  rang,  a  con 
fusion  of  voices  arose  at  the  outer  door,  and  a 
voice  that  was  strange  to  Napier  shouted  angrily, 
commandingly,  but  nevertheless  with  a  queer 
note  of  pleading,  "  I've  got  to  come  in.  I've  got 
to  see  Toy.  Damn  it,  man,  don't  tell  me  I 
can't!  Tell  him  it's  Captain  Glenn.  Tell 
him  I've  changed  my  mind.  Don't  stand  there 
arguing.  Great  God,  man,  I  can't  wait,  and  I 
won't!" 

"  Let  him  come  in,"  Napier  told  Gordon,  who 
went  to  pass  the  word  to  Carver.  A  moment 
later  Glenn  came  hurrying  into  the  room,  the 
treasury  agent  behind  him. 

The  captain  had  unquestionably  been  a  hand 
some  man  in  his  youth.  Now  he  was  thin  almost 
to  the  point  of  emaciation,  his  face  was  haggard 
and  lined,  his  eyes  burned  feverishly  and  his 
tongue  continually  moistened  his  lips.  He 
seemed  quite  unconscious  that  the  presence  of 
strangers  might  have  any  significance,  for  he  be 
gan  talking  to  Ng  Choy  the  moment  he  came 
within  sight  and  hearing. 

"I'll  do  it,"  he  called.  "I've  changed  my 
mind.  Give  me  a  little  dope,  Toy.  Hurry! 
We'll  talk  afterward." 

Ng  Choy  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  answer 
him. 

"  Good  heavens,  man,  clon't  sit  there  looking  at 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          287 

me!  "  Glenn  cried.  "  I'm  dying  for  it.  I  can't 
wait/' 

"  After  a  little,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do," 
Napier  said,  and  Glenn  seemed  to  see  him  for  the 
first  time.  "  For  the  moment,  you  will  have  to 
wait.  We  are  Federal  officers." 

"  Federal  officers,"  the  ex-captain  repeated 
dully.  He  looked  blankly  from  Napier  to  Gor 
don.  Then,  as  it  drifted  into  his  harrowed  con 
sciousness  that  this  was  a  raid,  his  only  reaction 
to  the  fact  was  despairing  disappointment. 
"  You  mean  he  can't  give  me  any?  You  mean 
you  won't  let  him  give  me  any?  For  the  love  of 
mercy,  my  friend,  let  him  get  me  just  a  little." 
He  panted,  licking  his  lips.  "  Just  a  little," 
he  pleaded.  "  Please.  For  God's  sake,  a  lit 
tle." 

It  was  shameful,  and  rather  horrible.  Napier, 
who  had  sympathy  with  all  drug  addicts,  tried  to 
soothe  him.  "  I  think  we  can  manage  it,  after  a 
while,"  he  said.  "  I'll  have  a  doctor  here,  and  he 
will  tell  us  — 

"After  a  while!  A  doctor!  Don't  you  un 
derstand,  Mr.  Officer?  I  can't  wait.  I've  been 
without  it  since  five  o'clock.  It's  too  long! 
Please,  sir." 

Again  the  doorbell  rang,  and  from  the  front 
came  Agent  Carver's  voice: 

"  It's  a  lady  named  Frezzi,  Billy.  She  says 
if  we  tell  Mr.  Napier  she  is  here,  he  will  let  her 


come  in." 


"  All  right,"  Napier  called.     His  eyes  were  on 


288          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

Kalat,  whose  face  displayed  surprise,  puzzlement 
and  hope.  Glenn,  for  the  moment,  was  ig 
nored.  He  stood  to  one  side,  muttering.  The 
fullness  of  the  situation  seemed  to  have  pene 
trated  his  dulled  understanding.  "  After  a 
while,"  Napier  heard  him  say.  "  We'll  have 
some  after  a  while." 

Madame  Frezzi  stood  in  the  doorway.  Napier 
had  thought  she  might  have  some  information 
that  he  needed  to  know,  but  her  eyes  swept  past 
him  and  rested  on  Kalat. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  that  I  did  it,  Yusef,"  she 
cried  harshly.  "  I  did  it.  I" 

His  eyes  narrowed,  but  he  did  not  reply.  He 
seemed  stunned  by  her  words  and  the  cold  pas 
sion  behind  them. 

"  You  have  been  followed  lately,  Yusef,"  she 
went  on,  "  and  just  now  the  follower  came  to  me 
and  said  you  were  here,  and  that  the  raid  had 
started.  So  I  had  to  come  and  see  you  under 
arrest.  I  wanted  to  enjpy  it."  Her  set  face 
gave  no  evidence  of  enjoyment.  '  You  are  un 
der  arrest,  and  you  are  going  back  to  Turkey  to 
be  tried.  If  the  Allies  cannot  prove  you  had 
anything  to  do  with  the  massacres,  the  Turks  will 
take  care  of  you  for  stealing  the  diamonds.  And 
I  did  it.  You  didn't  think  I  would  ever  turn 
against  you,  did  you,  Yusef?  You  didn't  think 
I  would  go  to  the  police,  and  tell  them  all  I  knew. 
But  you  didn't  know  that  I  would  ever  hear 
about  my  father,  and  my  mother,  and  my  brother 
and  sisters.  I  hope  they  torture  you,  as  your 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          289 

filthy  friends  tortured  the  Christians.  I 
hope " 

He  leaped  at  her,  snarling,  and  Napier  met 
him  with  a  blow  under  the  ear  that  sent  him  reel 
ing  against  the  wall.  Then,  while  Gordon's  eyes 
were  also  on  the  Turk,  Joe  Fong  saw  his  chance, 
pulled  an  automatic  pistol,  and  fired. 

Napier  and  Gordon,  whirling  at  the  shot  and 
reaching  for  their  own  weapons,  saw  the  Chinese- 
Mexican  and  Captain  Glenn  at  grips  in  the  mid 
dle  of  the  floor,  and  the  face  of  the  captain  was 
slowly  whitening,  as  though  a  fine  powder  were 
being  dusted  upon  it.  The  pistol  was  in  Fong's 
hand,  and  Glenn's  fingers  were  clutched  around 
it.  At  the  instant  they  looked,  Fong  fired  again, 
pointblank  against  Glenn's  breast,  and  the  cap 
tain  staggered  and  his  knees  bent,  but  he  did  not 
release  his  hold.  With  a  terrific  effort,  he  twisted 
Fong's  hand  back  and  upward,  and  the  muzzle 
swung  until  it  stared  fairly  into  the  half-caste's 
face.  Then  Glenn's  fingers  pressed  over  Fong's, 
and  there  was  a  third  explosion,  and  Fong 
slumped  inert  to  the  floor,  while  the  pistol  fell 
between  them. 

The  three  shots  and  all  the  struggle  that  inter 
vened  had  not  taken  the  tenth  of  a  minute. 

The  captain  was  spent;  his  last  ounce  of 
strength  and  will  were  gone.  He  collapsed,  still 
breathing,  but  faintly,  as  Napier  caught  him  and 
let  him  back  on  a  couch.  Gordon,  gun  in  hand, 
threatening  Kalat  and  Ng  Choy,  was  sputtering 
excitedly: 


290          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

"  I  didn't  take  my  eye  off  that  Fong  more  than 
three  seconds  and  then,  out  of  the  tail  of  it,  I  saw 
him  with  the  pistol.  He  was  going  to  pot  you. 
The  old  man  jumped  between  you.  Right  into 
the  bullet." 

Glenn  heard,  opened  his  eyes,  and  tried  to 
smile.  "  Couldn't  let  a  fellow  like  that  shoot  a 
white  man,  of  course,"  he  whispered.  "  Got  me 
twice,  didn't  he?  Then  I  got  him.  Didn't  quit 
till  I  got  him.  .  .  .  Didn't  quit.  ...  I 
never  was  a  quitter — when  I  was  younger."  The 
eyelids  fluttered  wearily.  "  When  I  was  a  man,** 
he  said.  And  then,  after  another  pause:  "  I  was 
a — man  then,  and  now  " — Napier  thought  the  re 
mainder  of  the  sentence  would  never  be  spoken, 
but  at  last  it  came,  hardly  more  than  a  sigh — 
"  and  now — I  was — a — man — again." 

Beneath  the  pallor  of  the  captain's  face 
there  settled  a  look  of  great  contentment  and 
peace. 

Officers  from  outside  had  come  racing  at  the 
pistol  shots  and  they  were  inside  the  room  now, 
handcuffing  Kalat  and  Ng  Choy,  searching  them. 
Kalat  had  a  small  pistol.  The  Chinaman  was 
unarmed.  He  had  not  risen  from  his  seat  during 
the  shooting,  nor  had  his  face  expressed  emotion. 
He  submitted  to  the  search  and  the  manacles  with 
calm  philosophy. 

"  Telephone  for  a  doctor,"  Gordon  com 
manded  one  of  the  policemen.  "  Tell  him  to 
come  on  the  jump." 

"  And  the  coroner,"  Napier  told  them  gravely, 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          291 

as  he  rose  from  the  still  quietly  smiling  old  cap 
tain. 

A  moment  later  some  one  came  in  through  the 
dance  hall.  "  There  is  a  young  lady  at  the 
door,"  he  said.  "  She  says  she  is  Miss  Glenn  and 
that  she  has  come  to  take  her  father  home." 

"  She  mustn't  come  into  this  room,"  Napier 
exclaimed.  "  Bring  her  into  the  dance  hall." 
He  went  out  and  met  her  there,  closing  the  door 
behind  him. 

"  Why,  what  are  you  doing  here? "  she  cried, 
as,  after  a  second  look  she  recognized  him. 
"  And  why  are  you  made  up  to  look  like  a  China 
man?  I  came  after  my  father.  He  got  away." 

"  There  is  something  I  didn't  tell  you,"  he  said, 
at  a  loss  how  to  approach  his  task.  "  I  am  a 
Federal  officer — an  agent  of  the  Treasury  De 
partment.  When  I  told  you  I  saw  a  solution, 
I  meant  a  raid  and  the  arrest  of  the  Chinamen. 
Won't  you  sit  down?  " 

She  looked  at  him,  only  half  understanding, 
but  took  the  chair  he  indicated.  "  Didn't  father 
come  here?  "  she  asked.  "  He  always  does." 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  and  in  his  look  of  sympathetic 
gravity  she  sensed  something  ominous  held 
back. 

"Where  is  he?"  she  demanded.  "What  is 
the  matter?  What  has  happened?  " 

"  I  am  very  sorry,"  he  told  her,  "  but  there  has 
been  an — accident.  It  is  very  serious.  Very 
serious  indeed." 

"  To  daddy? "     He  inclined  his  head,  his  eyes 


292          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

on  hers.  "  What  kind  of  an  accident?  Where 
is  he? " 

"  Very  serious  indeed,"  he  repeated.  "  Please 
sit  down  again,"  as  she  came  to  her  feet.  "  I 
would  give  anything  not  to  have  to  be  the  one  to 
tell  you." 

"  You  don't  mean "  Her  voice  was  a 

whisper.  "  He  isn't  dead! " 

Slowly  he  nodded.  "Oh!"  she  cried,  and 
then  a  crushing  explanation  came  into  her  mind 
and  she  asked,  fearfully:  "  Do  you  mean  he  was 
killed?  Was  there  a  fight?  " 

He  nodded  again.  "Oh,  daddy!"  she 
moaned.  "  And  he  sided  with  them.  But  you 
know  he  wasn't  himself." 

He  saw  now  what  trend  her  thoughts  had 
taken  and  hastened  to  correct  it.  "  He  sided 
with  us"  he  said.  "  He  fought  for  us.  Your 
father  saved  my  life." 

Along  with  the  dazed  grief  that  she  had  hardly 
begun  to  comprehend,  she  felt  the  relief  of  a 
great  load  lifted. 

"  It  was  quite  quick  and  painless,"  he  said 
softly.  "  A  man — one  of  the  Chinese — killed 
him,  and  he  killed  the  Chinaman.  He  realized, 
at  the  last,  that  he  had  come  back  to  be  the  kind 
of  man  he  used  to  be,  and  he  was  glad.  He 
smiled." 

"  Let  me  see  him." 

"  Not  now.     You  must  go  home " 

"  Home,"  she  echoed  bitterly. 

"  Back  to  the  hotel,"  he  amended,  "  and  I  will 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          293 

come  very  soon.  Everything  will  be  done  that 
ought  to  be  done,  and  I  will  take  you  to  see  him. 
I  wish  I  could  go  with  you  this  minute,  but  I 
must  wait — and  you  had  best  not.  I  will  be  at 
the  Edgemont  as  soon  as  I  can  get  there.  In  less 
than  an  hour,  I  hope." 

"I  can't!"  she  choked.  "I  can't  go  back 
there  alone." 

"  May  I  go  with  you?  " 

Napier  had  been  unconscious  of  Madame 
Frezzi's  presence.  She  came,  now,  to  Ruth 
Glenn's  side.  Her  face  was  neither  hard  nor 
set;  her  voice  was  not  cold  but  soft  and  warm 
with  sympathy,  and  there  were  tears  rolling  un 
hindered  down  her  cheeks,  the  first,  Napier 
thought,  that  she  had  shed  for  more  than  eight- 
and-forty  hours. 

"  I  would  like  to  go,"  she  said,  and  her  eyes 
begged  Napier  not  to  forbid  it.  "  I  understand. 
I,  too,  have  lost  a  father."  And  Napier  felt,  al 
though  her  voice  ceased,  that  her  mind  continued 
the  sentence — "  and  a  mother,  and  a  brother,  and 
two  sisters." 

"  Go  with  her,"  he  told  Miss  Glenn,  "  and  I 
will  come  as  soon  as  I  can.  This  is  Madame 
Frezzi.  She  will  stay  with  you  until  I  come." 

The  older  woman  slipped  her  hand  through  the 
girl's  arm,  and  Miss  Glenn  leaned  gratefully  to 
ward  her. 

"  Poor  daddy ! "  she  sighed.  "  To  go  like  that, 
here  in  this " 

Napier  spoke  gravely.      *  You  can  be  very 


294          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

glad  and  proud  of  what  happened  at  the  end. 
You  have  it  always  to  remember  that  he  went 
away  like  a  brave  gentleman  and  soldier." 

"  Come  soon,"  she  said,  as  she  followed  Ma 
dame  Frezzi  to  the  door.  "  I  want  to  hear  the 
story — and  to  see  him.  I  haven't  a  friend,  you 
know,  except  you.  I  am  all  alone  now." 

"  No,"  he  said  softly,  for  her  ears  only.  "  You 
are  not  alone,  and  you  won't  be,  if  I  can  help  it — 


ever." 


The  look  she  gave  him  before  she  turned  away 
was  not  all  mere  gratitude. 

A  doctor,  unneeded,  came  soon  after,  and  then 
the  coroner,  and  an  ambulance  for  the  dead ;  and 
after  that  a  patrol  wagon,  into  which  policemen 
pushed  Kalat  and  Tung  Sheng  and  Ng  Choy. 
The  old  restaurant  keeper,  to  the  last,  maintained 
a  perfect  calm,  surveying  all  the  proceedings 
with  the  detached  interest  of  one  for  whom  they 
possessed  no  significance.  But  his  shallow,  soul 
less  eyes  rested  on  Napier  as  he  passed,  and  the 
special  agent  was  honestly  thankful  that  Ng 
Choy  was  not  free  to  give  commands  to  slant- 
eyed  man-killers,  and  that  the  day  was  far  distant 
when  he  would  be. 

With  the  five  keys  they  opened  the  safe,  and 
out  of  its  opium  tin  they  took  the  glinting,  scintil 
lating  Ray  of  Light.  And  under  the  floor  of  the 
wine  room,  cunningly  concealed,  they  found  a 
hundred  cans  and  more  of  opium. 

When  Napier  and  Gordon,  with  the  two  other 
customs  agents,  leaving  policemen  to  guard  the 


THE  CHINESE  LABEL          295 

house,  finally  came  out  and  climbed  into  Gor 
don's  little  automobile  for  the  trip  to  the  Federal 
Building,  the  neighborhood,  notwithstanding  the 
hour,  was  buzzing  with  repressed  excitement. 
Chinamen  in  little  groups  of  two  and  three  were 
passing  and  repassing  the  great  house,  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  street,  not  seeming  to  look 
toward  it,  clacking  steadily  and  monotonously. 
There  were  lights  in  some  of  the  near-by  houses, 
although  more  were  dark,  but  in  front  of  every 
building,  illuminated  or  in  shadow,  stood  or 
walked  men  talking. 

"  The  Chinese  underground  is  going  at  full 
speed,"  Gordon  commented.  "  Isn't  it  remark 
able  how  news  spreads  with  them?  I'll  wager 
there  isn't  a  Chink  in  San  Antonio,  this  side  of 
Government  Hill,  who  hasn't  heard  all  the  details 
by  now — who  is  arrested,  and  who  is  dead,  and, 
roughly,  how  it  all  happened." 

"  The  Society  of  the  Fragrant  Lily  isn't  raided 
often,"  Napier  said.  "  Its  members  keep  out  of 
trouble — by  removing  their  enemies.  Will  you 
go  over  to  police  headquarters  and  attend  to  reg 
istering  the  prisoners,  as  soon  as  we  have  left  this 
stuff  at  the  office?  I  want  to  get  these  clothes 
and  this  stain  off,  and  then  I  have  a  number  of 
things  to  do.  I'll  be  at  the  office  in  the  morn- 
ing." 

They  passed,  when  they  had  gone  three  or  four 
blocks,  a  little  Chinese  grocery. 

The  building  was  dark,  but  not  silent.  From 
under  the  shadowy  gallery  at  the  front  came 


296          THE  CHINESE  LABEL 

weird,  discordant  sounds.  Loudly,  screamingly, 
with  a  tempo  and  lilt  that  Napier  well  knew  was 
the  expression  of  gladsome  triumph,  an  old  man 
with  a  Chinese  fiddle  was  joyously  telling  the 
whole  world  the  inharmonious  story  of  "  The 
Running  Brook  at  Springtime  and  the  Little 
Bird  in  the  Tree." 


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Chief  Legatee,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Cinderella  Jane.     By  Marjorie  B.  Cooke. 

Cinema  Murder,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

City  of  Masks,  The.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Cleek  of  Scotland  Yard.     By  T.  W.  Hanshew. 

Cleek,  The  Man  of  Forty  Faces.     By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

deck's  Government  Cases.     By  Thomas  W.  Hanshew. 

Clipped  Wings.     By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Ckie,  The,     By  Carolyn  Wells. 

Clutch  of  Circumstance,  The.     By  Marjorie  Benton  Cooke. 

Coast  of  Adventure,  The.    By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Coming  of  Cassidy,  The.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Coming  of  the  Law,  The.     By  Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 

Conquest  of  Canaan,  The.     By  Booth  Tarkington. 

Conspirators,  The.    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Court  of  Inquiry,  A.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Cow  Puncher,  The-     By  Robert  J.  C.  Stead. 

Crimson  Gardenia,  The,  and  Other  Tales  of  Adventure.     By 

Rex  Beach. 

Cross  Currents.    By  Author  of  "Pollyanna." 
Cry  in  the  Wilderness,  A.    By  Mary  E.  Waller. 

Danger,  And  Oth^r  Stories.    By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 
Dark  Hollow,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 
Dark  Star,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Daughter  Pays,  The.     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 
Day  of  Days,  The.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
Depot  Master,  The.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Desire*  Wamwa,  The.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 


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Destroying  Angel,  The.    By  Louis  Jos.  Vance. 

Devil's  Own,  The.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Double  Traitor,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Empty  Pockets.     By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Eyes  of  the  Blind,  The.     By  Arthur  Somers  Roche. 

Eye  of  Dread,  The.     By  Payne  Erskine. 

Eyes  of  the  World,  The.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright 

Extricating  Obadiah.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Felix  O'Day.     By  F.  Hopkinson  Smith. 
54-40  or  Fight.     By  Emerson  Hough. 
Fighting  Chance,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Fighting  Shepherdess,  The.     By  Caroline  Lockhart. 
Financier,  The.     By  Theodore  Dreiser. 
Flame,  The.     By  Olive  Wadsley. 
Flamsted  Quarries.     By  Mary  E.  Wallar. 
Forfeit,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Four  Million,  The.    By  O.  Henry. 
Fruitful  Vine,  The.     By  Robert  Hichens. 
Further   Adventures  of  Jimmie   Dale,   The.     By   Frank   L, 
Packard. 

Girl  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  A.    By  Payne  Erskine. 

Girl  from  Keller's,  The.     By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Girl  Philippa,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Girls  at  His  Billet,  The.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

God's  Country  and  the  Woman.     By  James  Oliver  Curwood, 

Going  Some.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Golden  Slipper,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Golden  Woman,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Greater  Love  Hath  No  Man.    By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Greyfriars  Bobby.    By  Eleanor  Atkinson. 

Gun  Brand,  The.     By  James  B.  Hendryx. 

Halcyone.    By  Elinor  Glyn. 

Hand  of  Fu-Manchu,  The.    By  Sax  Rohmer. 

Havoc.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Heart  of  the  Desert,  The.    By  Honore  Willsie. 

Heart  of  the  Hills,  The.    By  John  Fox,  Jr. 


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Heart  of  the  Sunset.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Heart  of  Thunder  Mountain,  The.     By  Edfrid  A.  Bingham. 

Her  Weight  in  Gold.     By  Geo.  B.  McCutcheon. 

Hidden  Children,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Hidden  Spring,  The.     By  Clarence  B.  Kelland. 

Hillraan,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Hills  of  Refuge,  The.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 

His  Official  Fiancee.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

Honor  of  the  Big  Snows.    By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Hopalong  Cassidy.     By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Hound  from  the  North,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cuttum. 

House  of  the  Whispering  Pines,  The.     By  Anna  Katharine 

Green. 
Hugh  Wynne,  Free  Quaker.     By  S.  Weir  Mitchell,  M.D, 

I  Conquered.    By  Harold  Titus. 

Illustrious  Prince,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

In  Another  Girl's  Shoes.    By  Berta  Ruck. 

Indifference  of  Juliet,  The.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Infelice.     By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Initials  Only.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Inner  Law,  The.     By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Innocent.     By  Marie  Corelli. 

Insidious  Dr.  Fu-Manchu,  The.     By  Sax  Rohmer. 

In  the  Brooding  Wild.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Intriguers,  The.     By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Iron  Trail,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Iron  Woman,  The.     By  Margaret  Deland. 

I  Spy.     By  Natalie  Sutnner  Lincoln. 

aponette.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

can  of  the  Lazy   A.     By  B.  M.  Bower. 

eanne  of  the  Marshes.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim, 

ennie  Gerhardt.     By  Theodore  Dreiser. 

udgment  House,  The.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Keeper  of  the  Door,  The.    By  Ethel  M.  Dell. 
Keith  of  the  Border.     By  Randall  Parrfsh.  m 
Kent  Knowles:  Ouahaug.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 
Kingdom  of  the  Blind,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 


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King  Spruce.    B}^  Holman  Day. 

King's  Widow,  The.    By  Mrs.  Bailiie  Reynolds. 

Knave  of  Diamonds,  The.    By  Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Ladder  of  Swords.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Lady  Betty  Across  the  Water.     By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  William 
son. 

Land-Girl's  Love  Story,  A.    By  Berta  Ruck. 
Landloper,  The.     By  Holman  Day. 
Land  of  Long  Ago,  The.     By  Eliza  Calvert  Hall. 
Land  of  Strong  Men,  The.    By  A.  M.  Chisholm. 
Last  Trail,  The.     By  Zane  Grey. 
Laugh  and  Live.     By  Douglas  Fairbanks. 
Laughing  Bill  Hyde.     By  Rex  Beach. 
Laughing  Girl,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 
Law  Breakers,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Lifted  Veil,  The.     By  Basil  King. 
Lighted  Way,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lin  McLean.     By  Owen  Wister. 
Lonesome  Land.    By  B.  M.  Bower. 
Lone  Wolf,  The.     By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 
Long  Ever  Ago.    By  Rupert  Hughes. 
Lonely  Stronghold,  The.    By  Mrs.  Bailiie  Reynolds. 
Long  Live  the  King.    By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 
Long  Roll,  The.     By  Mary  Johnston. 
Lord  Tony's  Wife.     By  Baroness  Orczy. 
Lost  Ambassador.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 
Lost  Prince,  The.     By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett. 
Lydia  of  the  Pines.    By  Honore  Willsie. 

Maid  of  the  Forest,  The.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Maid  of  the  Whispering  Hills,  The.     By  Vingie  E.  Roe. 

Maids  of  Paradise,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Major,  The.    By  Ralph  Connor. 

Maker  of  History,  A.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Malefactor,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Man  from  Bar  20,  The.    By  Clarence  E.  Mulford. 

Man  in  Grey,  The.     By  Baroness  Orczy. 

Man  Trail,  The.     By  Henry  Oyen. 

Man  Who  Couldn't  Sleep,  The.     By  Arthur  Stringer. 


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Man  with  the  Club  Foot,  The.    By  Valentine  Williams. 

Mary-'Gusta.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mary  Moreland.     By  Marie  Van  Vorst. 

Mary  Regan.     By  Leroy  Scott. 

Master  Mummer,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Memoirs  of  Sherlock  Holmes.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

Men  Who  Wrought,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Mischief  Maker,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Missioner,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Miss  Million's  Maid.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

Molly  McDonald.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Money  Master,  The.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Money  Moon,  The.    By  Jeffery  Farnpl. 

Mountain  Girl,  The.    By  Payne  Erskine. 

Moving  Finger,  The.     By  Natalie  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Mr.  Bingle.     By  George  Barr  McCutchepn. 

Mr.  Grex  of  Monte  Carlo.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Mr.  Pratt.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mr.  Pratt's  Patients.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Mrs.  Belfame.    By  Gertrude  Atherton. 

Mrs.  Red  Pepper.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

My  Lady  Caprice.     By  Jeffrey  Farnol. 

My  Lady  of  the  North.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

My  Lady  of  the  South.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Mystery  of  the  Hasty  Arrow,  The.    By  Anna  K.  Green. 

Nameless  Man,  The.     By  Nataile  Sumner  Lincoln. 

Ne'er-Do-Well,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Nest  Builders,  The.    By  Beatrice  Forbes-Robertson  Hale. 

Net,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

New  Clarion.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Night  Operator,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Night  Riders,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Nobody.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 

Okewood  of  the  Secret  Service.     By  the  Author  of  "Tie 

Man  with  the  Club  Foot." 
One  Way  Trail,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 
Open,  Sesame,     By  Mrs.  Baillie  Reynolds. 
Otherwise  Phyllis.     By  Meredith  Nicholson. 
Outlaw,  The.     By  Jackson  Gregory. 


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Paradise  Auction.    By  Nalbro  Hartley. 

Pardners.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Parrot  &  Co.    By  Harold  MacGrath. 

Partners  of  the  Night.     By  Leroy  Scott. 

Partners  of  the  Tide.     By  Joseph  C  Lincoln. 

Passionate  Friends,  The.     By  H.  G.  Wells. 

Patrol  of  the  Sun  Dance  Trail,  The.    By  Ralph  Connor. 

Paul  Anthony,  Christian.     By  Hiram  W.  Hays. 

Pawns  Count,  The.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

People's  Man,  A.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Perch  of  the  Devil.     By  Gertrude  Atherton. 

Peter  Ruff  and  the  Double  Four.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Pidgin  Island.     By  Harold  MacGrath. 

Place  of  Honeymoon,  The.     By  Harold  MacGrath, 

Pool  of  Flame,  The.    By  Louis  Joseph  Vance. 

Postmaster,  The.     By  Joseph   C.  Lincoln. 

Prairie  Wife,  The.     By  Arthur  Stringer. 

Price  of  the  Prairie,  The.     By  Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Prince  of  Sinners,  A.     By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Promise,  The.    By  J.  B.  Hendryx. 

Proof  of  the  Pudding,  The.    By  Meredith  Nicholson. 


Rainbow's  End,  The.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Ranch  at  the  Wolverine,  The.     By  B.  M.  Bower. 

Ranching  for  Sylvia.     By  Harold  Bindloss. 

Ransom.     By  Arthur  Somers  Roche. 

Reason  Why,  The.     By  Elinor  Glyn. 

Reclaimers,  The.    By  Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Red  Mist,  The.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Red  Pepper  Burns.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Red  Pepper's  Patients.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Rejuvenation  of  Aunt  Mary,  The.     By  Anne  Warner. 

Restless  Sex,  The.     By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Return  of  Dr.  Fu-Manchu,  The.     By  Sax  Rohmer. 

Return  of  Tarzan,  The.     By  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 

Riddle  of  Night,  The.     By  Thomas  W.  Han  shew. 

Rim  of  the  Desert,  The.     By  Ada  Woodruff  Anderson. 

Rise  of  Roscoe  Paine,  The.    By  J.  C.  Lincoln. 

Rising  Tide,  The.     By  Margaret  Deland. 


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Rocks  of  Valpre,  The.     By  Ethel  M.  Dell. 

Rogue  by  Compulsion,  A.     By  Victor  Bridges. 

Room  Number  3.     By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

Rose  in  the  Ring,  The.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Rose  of  Old  Harpeth,  The.     By  Maria  Thompson  Daviess, 

Round  the  Corner  in  Gay  Street.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Second  Choice.    By  Will  N.  Harben. 

Second  Violin,  The.    By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Secret  History.     By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  Williamson. 

Secret  of  the  Reef,  The.     By  Harold  Biridloss. 

Seven  Darlings,  The.     By  Gouverneur  Morris. 

Shavings.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Shepherd  of  the  Hills,  The.     By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Sheriff  of  Dyke  Hole,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Sherry.     By  George  Barr  McCutcheon. 

Side  of  the  Angels,  The.     By  Basil  King. 

Silver  Horde,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Sin  That  Was  His,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Sixty-first  Second,  The.     By  Owen  Johnson. 

Soldier  of  the  Legion,  A.     By  C.  N.  &  A.  M.  Williamson. 

Son  of  His  Father,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Son  of  Tarzan,  The.     By  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 

Source,  The.     By  Clarence  Buddington  Kelland. 

Speckled  Bird,  A.     By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 

Spirit  in  Prison,  A.     By  Robert  Hichens. 

Spirit  of  the  Border,  The.     (New  Edition.)     By  Zane  Grey. 

Spoilers,  The.     By  Rex  Beach. 

Steele  of  the  Royal  Mounted.    By  James  Oliver  Curwood. 

Still  Jim.     By  Honore  Willsie. 

Story  of  Foss  River  Ranch,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Story  of  Marco,  The.     By  Eleanor  H.  Porter. 

Strange  Case  of  Cavendish,  The.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Strawberry  Acres.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Sudden  Jim.     By  Clarence  B.  Kelland. 

Tales  of  Sherlock  Holmes.  By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 
Tarzan  of  the  Apes.  By  Edgar  R.  Burroughs. 
Tarzan  and  the  Jewels  of  Opar.  By  Edgar  Rice  Burroughs. 


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Tempting  of  Tavernake,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

Tess  of  the  D'Urbervilles.    By  Thos.  Hardy. 

Thankful's  Inheritance.     By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

That  Affair  Next  Door.    By  Anna  Katharine  Green. 

That  Printer  of  Udell's.     By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Their  Yesterdays.     By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Thirteenth  Commandment,  The.     By  Rupert  Hughes. 

Three  of  Hearts,  The.     By  Berta  Ruck. 

Three  Strings,  The.     By  Natalie  Summer  Lincoln. 

Threshold,  The.     By  Marjorie  Benton  Cooke. 

Throwback,  The.     By  Alfred  Henry  Lewis. 

Tish.     By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

To  M.  L.  G.;  or,  He  Who  Passed.    Anon. 

Trail  of  the  Axe,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Trail  to  Yesterday,  The.     By  Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 

Treasure  of  Heaven,  The.     By  Marie  Corelli. 

Triumph,  The.     By  Will  N.  Harben. 

T.  Tembarom.     By  Frances  Hodgson  Burnett. 

Turn  of  the  Tide.     By  Author  of  "Pollyanna." 

Twenty-fourth  of  June,  The,     By  Grace  S.   Richmond, 

Twins  of  Suffering  Creek,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Two-Gun  Man,  The.    By  Chas.  A.  Seltzer. 


Uncle  William.     By  Jeannette  Lee. 

Under  Handicap.     By  Jackson  Gregory. 

Under  the  Country  Sky.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Unforgiving  Offender,  The.     By  John  Reed  Scott. 

Unknown  Mr.  Kent,  The.     By  Roy  Norton. 

Unpardonable  Sin,  The.     By  Major  Rupert  Hughes. 

Up  From  Slavery.     By  Booker  T.  Washington. 


Valiants  of  Virginia,  The.     By  Hallie  Ermine  Rives. 
Valley  of  Fear,  The.     By  Sir  A.  Conan  Doyle. 
Vanished   Messenger,  The.     By   E.   Phillips   Oppenheim 
Vanguards  of  the  Plains.    By  Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 
Vashti.     By  Augusta  Evans  Wilson. 
Virtuous  Wives.     By  Owen  Johnson. 
Visioning,  The.    By  Susan  Glaspell. 


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Waif-o'-the-Sea.    By  Cyrus  Townsend  Brady. 

Wall  of  Men,  A.    By  Margaret  H.  McCarter. 

Watchers  of  the  Plans,  The.    By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Way  Home,  The.    By  Basil  King. 

Way  of  an  Eagle,  The.    By  E.  M.  Dell. 

Way  of  the  Strong,  The.     By  Ridgwell  Cullum. 

Way  of  These  Women,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 

We  Can't  Have  Everything.     By  Major  Rupert  Hughes. 

Weavers,  The.     By  Gilbert  Parker. 

When  a  Man's  a  Man.    By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

When  Wilderness  Was  King.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Where  the  Trail  Divides.     By  Will  Lillibridge. 

Where  There's  a  Will.    By  Mary  R.  Rinehart. 

White  Sister,  The.     By  Marion  Crawford. 

Who  Goes  There?    By  Robert  W.  Chambers. 

Why  Not.     By  Margaret  Widdemer. 

Window  at  the  White  Cat,  The.    By  Mary  Roberts  Rinehart. 

Winds  of  Chance,  The.    By  Rex  Beach. 

Wings  of  Youth,  The.    By  Elizabeth  Jordan. 

Winning  of  Barbara  Worth,  The.     By  Harold  Bell  Wright. 

Wire  Devils,  The.     By  Frank  L.  Packard. 

Winning  the  Wilderness.     By  Margaret  Hill  McCarter. 

Wishing  Ring  Man,  The.    By  Margaret  Widdemer. 

With  Juliet  in  England.     By  Grace  S.  Richmond. 

Wolves  of  the  Sea.     By  Randall  Parrish. 

Woman  Gives,  The.     By  Owen  Johnson. 

Woman  Haters,  The.    By  Joseph  C.  Lincoln. 

Woman  in  Question,  The.     By  John  Reed  Scott. 

Woman  Thou  Gavest  Me,  The.     By  Hall  Caine. 

Woodcarver  of  'Lympus,  The.    By  Mary  E.  Waller. 

Wooing  of  Rosamond  Fayre,  The.    By  Berta  Ruck. 

World  for  Sale,  The.    By  Gilbert-Parker. 

Years  for  Rachel,  The.    By  Berta  Ptck. 

Yellow  Claw,  The.     By  Sax  Rohmer. 

You  Never  Know  Your  Luck.    By  Gilbert  Parker. 

Zeppelin's  Passenger,  The.    By  E.  Phillips  Oppenheim. 


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